


Eternity in a Second

by Verti



Series: Sympathy for the Devil [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demon!Leon, Domestic, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Tiny bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verti/pseuds/Verti
Summary: Raihan learns several things about his new flatmate over the next week.First, the demon goes by a lot of names but prefers Leon— which may or may not be the name of the last human he remembers possessing.Second, Leon is a surprisingly good roommate. He’s fine doing the housework while Raihan’s out, and, on the basis that he doesn’t really need to sleep, has made Raihan an early breakfast for the past two days.Third, and most importantly, Leon is unreasonably and undeniably, stupidhot.Raihan doesn’t know what to think of this.________________________Raihan accidentally summons a demon. It goes just about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Series: Sympathy for the Devil [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653688
Comments: 92
Kudos: 757





	1. Treading Light

**Author's Note:**

> this au is entirely based off of this tweet https://twitter.com/boomer_kid/status/1223913785129426944 
> 
> enjoy!!!

Raihan doesn’t know how to react when he receives a Ouija board for Christmas. 

It’s a joke, obviously. Probably from Piers, or —more likely— Marnie, who sent it as a reminder of the time Raihan had accidentally discovered Pier’s weird occult dungeon in the basement while staying over. 

Raihan takes a snap of it with his phone and sends it to Marnie with a caption: _is this one of piers????_ He snaps another for Piers: _coming for your gig mate_

Then, he sets the board aside, in favor of going through the rest of his presents while he waits for their reply. He gets a textbook from Sonia, a flame-embroidered phone case from Kabu and a suave-looking silver blazer from Nessa— no doubt an article that she had swiped while on the job at her modelling agency.

Raihan is just getting up to try it on when his phone vibrates.

 **Marnie:** _dont think so?? I sent u studs_

 **Marnie:** _thanks for the spike chain btw_

 **Marnie:** _piers would be livid if i took one of his_

So, it’s not from the resident goth siblings then. Raihan pauses for a moment to think of the other possibilities. It could’ve been Gordie, under a similar pretense as a jab at Piers, but he usually just backpacks off of whatever his mom’s gift is for the year. Opal, as much as her appearance seems to suggest, shies away from anything overly superstitious, and Allister— well, Raihan’s not sure if Allister’s parents even give enough allowance for him to afford something like this impromptu.

His parents and family are _definitely_ out of the question, so that leaves it to whichever overly-obsessed fan managed to get their hands on his home address for the holidays. That also probably explains the strangely unmarked gift box and wrapping paper the board had come in. Raihan makes a quick note to ask if his agent can trace it back to the shipping company and find the sender.

His phone vibrates again. 

**Marnie:** _bro says cool design tho_

 **Marnie:** _what a nerd lolll_

Raihan looks back at the board. 

The design _is_ pretty cool— with large ink swirls and black roses as the border and Victorian font etched into a thin mahogany board. Formatting wise, it’s pretty standard, with the words _YES_ and _NO_ engraved in opposite corners, the alphabet and numbers in the center and _GOODBYE_ on the bottom. The planchette is made of some sort of light metal, maybe silver, the canvas around the eye marked up with a similar swirl design. Despite his misgivings, Raihan has to admit the board looks a lot more vintage than the ones he’s seen online that settle for cardboard and plastic over actual wood. Whoever sent this to him definitely didn’t mind spending a pretty penny.

He grabs his phone to type back. 

**Raihan:** _seems expensive, its all real wood and metal_

 **Raihan:** _does he want it_

Marnie’s typing bubble pops back up after a minute.

 **Marnie:** _nah he says bad luck to take it off of ur hands_

Great, so passing it down to Allister probably isn’t gonna work either. Raihan’s phone buzzes with a new message.

 **Piers:** _i dont want it_

 **Piers:** _also rude_

 **Piers:** _im rock not occult theres a difference_

 **Raihan:** _explain the satanic sex dungeon then_

 **Piers:** _please stop calling it that_

 **Piers:** _led zeppelin is an inspiration_

Raihan can’t help rolling his eyes. It’s not that he doesn’t respect Piers’ aesthetic, but he’s seen enough skull and pentagram designs on both siblings that assuming they have a Satanic shrine somewhere in their house isn’t _completely_ unwarranted— Led Zeppelin inspired or not. Especially if you’re a sheeple to the entire history of rock music, as Raihan apparently is according to Piers.

 **Raihan:** _aight aight_

 **Raihan:** _but fr what should i do with this_

 **Piers:** _idk just store it somewhere in the cupboard i guess_

 **Piers:** _or give it a go if ur brave enough_

 **Raihan:** _im not superstitious like you lmfao_

Duraludon makes small scuffing noises from his terrarium, so Raihan gets up from the couch to go and scoop the spiny-tailed monitor into his hands. He scampers up his arm to perch against the crook of his neck— his favorite place to nestle against Raihan and absorb his body heat— and flicks his tongue out when Raihan runs a finger against his spine. When he returns to the couch, Piers has typed out another reply.

Or rather, he’s sent a shrug emoji. The passive aggressive ass.

Raihan snorts and sets his phone aside, careful not to disturb Duraludon who has now migrated to the inside of his hood. 

His fingers catch against the Ouija board and Raihan allows himself the satisfaction of running them along the lettering, feeling the divots and etches underneath his fingertips. He’d checked the bottom of the board already earlier, to see if there was some barcode or brand that could help him return it to store, but it had been just as blank and unhelpful as the packaging. If he’s unlucky, this might actually be some sort of ancient family heirloom his fan sent him.

Despite himself— and despite what he knows his parents are like— some part of Raihan laments storing something as antique as this away just to collect dust.

Oh, fuck it.

Piers can go eat a dick.

Raihan sits up. He sets the board on the coffee table, holds the planchette down on top of it with two fingers from each hand like he’s seen on those viral internet videos and waits in silence. Duraludon chirps curiously, peeking out from his hood to observe.

Raihan has no idea what he’s doing.

“Uh,” he says out loud, and feels dumb already. Fuck Piers and Raihan’s own stupid fragile masculinity. “I… Hey.”

He can almost hear Pier’s dry laughter in the back of his head. His ears burn.  
  
What’s the question they always ask first in horror movies? “Is anybody there?”

The planchette moves under his fingers, and Raihan lets it drift across the board. It makes a circle around the center before moving up to the top left corner.

_YES._

Alright, then. “Are you real?”

The planchette doesn’t move, so he takes that as a yes. “Are you a person?” He feels it waver a bit.

“Are you… human?”

This time, it drifts. Raihan feels a small chill run down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

_NO._

Raihan licks his lips, suddenly feeling very hyper-aware of how silent his surroundings are. He can no longer hear his heater running hot air through the air vents, nor the boiling of the kettle he had just turned on for tea before sitting down to open his presents. Even Duraludon has gone quiet, huddled into a small immobile mass against the back of his neck. 

“... What’s your name?”

The planchette moves, and Raihan holds his breath. 

_YES._

He frowns. “What?” 

_YES._

“I said, what’s your name?”  
  
_YES_.

 _YES_.

 _YES_.

_YE—_

Raihan’s phone buzzes. He looks back at the board, half a mind to keep going, the other to check the latest comments on his Christmas post. The latter seems _way_ more productive, so Raihan lets go of the planchette in favor of scrolling through Twitter and scratching Duraludon behind the neck. 

He’ll just tell Piers the stupid board didn’t work and find some way to pawn it off to Allister as an early birthday present. 

* * *

Five days later, Raihan is running on 4 hours of sleep total and a shit ton of caffeine.

While being an influencer and technically self-employed has its perks, like being able to work on whatever he wants whenever, there’s also the downside of needing to advertise his brand and whatever large sponsorship he signed onto during the annual promotion spree that is Christmas. 

As a result, Raihan’s been running himself ragged, doing seasonal fashion photoshoots, magazine interviews, and an advertisement about some weird peppermint-flavored protein shake that his current sports sponsor is promoting. 

It also doesn’t help that, for some reason, he keeps waking up to the sound of something knocking on his walls in the middle of the night. 

It started a few days ago, maybe right after Christmas, or whenever the fuck Raihan’s crazy schedule kicked into place. The knocking is quiet, actually, that sometimes Raihan has to strain to hear it if he hasn’t been paying attention. It sounds exactly like if someone was tapping their knuckles gently against the walls of his apartment, except more incessant and rhythmic— often going on for hours without ever missing a beat like a loose tap that keeps dripping water. The knocking always starts at midnight— always on the far-side wall of his bedroom— and always after Raihan’s crawled into bed.

It’s fucking _obnoxious,_ is what it is.

Raihan _would_ be tempted to call the landlord to come in for a pipe-check up, if only he didn’t have a hand in blue-printing his apartment layout and already know that he has no water or air pipes running through this side of his bedroom.

God fucking damn it.

At some point, Raihan decides he’s had enough of this bullshit and buys a pair of earplugs on his way home from work. He’s dealt with plenty of loud roommates in the past to know that this small annoyance amounts to nothing, so long as he has the right gear to sleep through it. After all, if he can get through Pier’s late-night jamming sessions, he can get through this.

Raihan crawls into bed with a sigh, burying his face into plushy cushions and soft linen. He gropes around for his charger and plugs his phone in to charge next to his night lamp. It reads 11:58pm, which means two minutes until the knocking starts up for the night. At least he’ll finally be able to get some rest now.

“Oyasumi, fucko,” he says, to no one in particular, and puts his ear plugs in and closes his eyes.

In spite of himself, Raihan listens for the knocking once he thinks it’s around twelve, just to see if the plugs work. He counts to 120 under his breath, and lets out a sigh of relief when he can’t hear anything except his own heartbeat. 

Thank god.

Raihan wiggles a bit more to get comfortable and uses his legs to fold his blanket under his body like a burrito. _Good_ , he thinks. _Sleep time_. 

And then, he hears it. Or rather, feels it.

It’s closer to him. He can feel the slight shake with every sound, like someone’s knocking directly against his bed frame and sending vibrations throughout the entire bed. He can actually feel the impact of every knock, the sound of knuckle against hardwood ringing through the back of his skull and throughout the rest of his body.

What the actual fuck.

Raihan takes a deep breath and counts to ten while giving himself a pep talk.

 _One—_ he can do this— _two—_ he can’t let this get to him— _three—_ he has a shoot at 7 tomorrow he needs to be up early— _four—_ _nope_ fuck _it_ _shut the_ fuck _up_ —

Raihan yanks his eyes open and reaches an arm over to turn on his lamp for what he thinks is surely going to be 7 hours of cursing and raging at the ceiling.

The light turns on, and Raihan stares.

There is a _man_ standing over him.

“Oh,” the man says, sounding surprised. Raihan screams.

The last thing he sees— he thinks, before blacking out— is golden eyes and clawed hands reaching out for him.

It’s not until later that Raihan comes to, sitting up groggily in his bed.

“Slowly,” someone says, before he can really register what’s going on. “You fainted really suddenly just now.”

Raihan looks up. The same man from before is perched on top of one of his cabinets, blinking at him with large yellow eyes.

“Get out of my house,” he says, and the man frowns.

“Wait, this is a—“

“Get _out_ ,” Raihan says, grabbing for the small pocket knife at his bedside. He knows it’s blunt— nothing more than just a decorative souvenir from one of his sponsors’ events— but it can provide distraction long enough for him to call the police.

The man eyes his knife before sighing. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Stay where you are and you won’t have to find out otherwise.” Raihan grits out, his other hand already reaching for his phone.

The man cocks an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. The light flickers— cuts out for a second with a sound of static— and then he’s sitting by Raihan’s bedside, one hand reaching to pin his knife hand against the bed, the other batting his phone out of his reach. 

He leans in, and Raihan is now terrifyingly aware of how slit his pupils are.

Oh _god_.

He takes back all the things he’s said to Piers.

The man— no, the demon— seems to notice how it’s scaring Raihan to death, and pulls back so they aren’t face to face anymore. It plucks the knife from Raihan’s grasp with long, black fingernails, tossing it to the side.

“There we go, much better.” The demon seems to relax considerably, shoulders slumping. It beams at him. “Hello, Raihan.”

Raihan feels like his brain has short-circuited. “H-how do you know my name?"

The demon shrugs, “Picked it up over the past few days. You do an awful lot of running around with people calling after you.”

“Past few days…?” Raihan repeats weakly. “So you… The Ouija board…”

“Yup!” The demon grins wider, showing off sharp canines and —what Raihan thinks— a glimpse of a forked tongue. “You used the board, I replied, you forgot to say goodbye, I couldn’t leave, and I’ve been here ever since—“

“Wait— wait,” Raihan interrupts, despite his better judgment about disrespecting a being who looks like he could easily rip him open with his claws. “So you’re here because I never said goodbye?”

“Yes,” the demon says as it looks at Raihan. “It’s kind of how Ouija boards work; we aren’t allowed to leave the house that summons us until someone closes the contract."

Raihan nods, straightening up. “ _So_ ,” he says. “If I were to say goodbye now, you’ll—“

“Wait, don’t—!” It leans in close once more and Raihan can’t help but shuddering again at the sight of the piercing yellow eyes. “I— I don’t want to go. Or really, I can’t go.”

Raihan frowns, “what do you mean?”

The demon blinks before letting out a short laugh, rubbing the back of its neck. “I’m kind of rubbish with direction. So even if you let me go, I don’t have any hope of going back where I came from by myself, or else I would’ve been a way bigger pain in the arse trying to get your attention. So I figured, I’ll just stick around until someone comes to fetch me, but then I got bored ‘cause you’re always out all the time and— I thought if I could get your attention _now_ I could convince you to let me stay until then and— well, here we are.” It cuts off, looking a bit embarrassed at its rambling.

Raihan stares. “You’re piggy-backing off of me?”

The demon grins sheepishly, a bit lopsided and unsure. “Well, in my terms, it’s called an infestation.”

“Yeah— no, I know that, mate,” Raihan doesn’t have much reference on demons, but he thinks this is the first time anyone’s ever expected one ramble on for so long, much less while also sporting the largest puppy-dog eyes Raihan’s ever seen. “But you’re saying, you want to be _flatmates_?”

It actually has the gall to look mildly offended. “I have good etiquette.”

“You’ve kept me up until four for the past five nights.”

The demon pouts, and Raihan tries very hard not to think about how much the shadowy mass before him resembles a kicked puppy. “It was circumstantial! I was bored of waiting around and I didn’t think you’d be that hung up over it.”

“Mate, I’ve got a seven a.m. thing today that I have to be up by five for.” The demon opens his mouth, then closes it, brows furrowed as it seriously seems to consider Raihan’s point.

“Sorry,” it says out finally, and Raihan sighs. He really can’t find it in his heart to curse this demon out; not when it’s sulking by his bed like this.

“You can stay,” he shrugs, trying to seem a lot more nonchalant than he actually feels. “But you can’t bother me when I’m sleeping and you have to help out with the chores while I’m out, yeah?”

The demon brightens up, eyes wide and sparkling. “Yeah,” it says and puffs out its chest. Raihan resigns himself to having a new _dog-but-not-a-dog_ strutting around the house for the next few days.

Duraludon will have to learn how to share.

* * *

Raihan learns several things about his new flatmate over the next week.

First, the demon goes by a lot of names but prefers Leon, which may or may not be the name of the last human he remembers possessing. Raihan doesn’t know what to think of this.

Second, the demon— _Leon—_ despite his earlier misdeeds, is a surprisingly good roommate when he puts his mind to it. He’s fine doing the housework while Raihan’s out, and— on the basis that he doesn’t really need to sleep— has cooked an early breakfast for Raihan for the past two days.

Third, and most importantly, Leon is unreasonably and undeniably, stupid _hot._

Admittedly, Raihan hadn’t really paid attention to what Leon looked like during their first meeting in his bedroom, under the pretense that he had accidentally summoned a demon and also subsequently trapped it in his home until god knows how long. He also has a bit of a feeling that Leon may not have been exactly _corporeal_ back then, since he doesn’t remember seeing much of his form in the dim light besides yellow eyes, long claws and sharp teeth.

Except now that he’s tasked with doing Raihan’s chores and feeding Duraludon while he’s gone, Leon’s opted to go full physical form. And _fuck,_ he’s so gorgeous, with soft purple hair down to the small of his back, a small neat goatee-sort of thing and a relatively lean but still strong build.

On all accounts of character design, it’s _wrong_ , but Leon pulls it off so well it’s stupid. Raihan assumes it comes with being a demon and the forbidden taboo-ness of it all.

According to Leon, he based it off of what his last vessel— the man named Leon— looked like. Raihan has to stop himself from asking what happened to such a fine specimen, out of his own dignity and respect for human life. He doubts Leon remembers, anyways.

Leon is old; one of the oldest demons, in fact, from wherever he comes from. It’s supposed to be Hell, of some kind, but Leon is always vague about the details no matter how Raihan presses. He does, however, seem to take some sort of pride in his status back home; something along the lines of being the undefeated reigning Champion for a millennia before stepping down for a younger demon to take the head. He’d then spent the next years wandering around aimlessly and being summoned by stupid teenagers and Satanists, “popping in for a few sessions”, as Leon put it, before being drawn to Raihan’s half-assed attempt at the Ouija board. 

As it turns out, while Leon is pretty well-acquainted with the 21st-century era with the amount of summonings he’s been to, it’s been a good few centuries since anyone’s actually given him a chance to manifest in physical form. Raihan’s not sure if that means he’s incredibly kind for doing this, or just incredibly stupid. 

“So,” Raihan says, at the start of their second week together as they’re sprawled across his couch, watching late-night football and eating cornflakes, because that’s something Leon apparently likes to do. “Why aren’t you more… demon-y?”

Leon blinks, spoon in his mouth. He’s wearing one of Raihan’s sweatshirts, the fabric stretched tightly over his god-awful very tangible and _very_ perky pecs. Raihan makes a note to bring him out to shop for clothes his size some time if he’s going to be staying here any longer. “What do you mean?”

“Why aren’t you like…” Raihan wiggles his fingers. “More evil? Like the demons that are always terrorizing those poor families in the movies. If we were in one right now, I’d reckon I’d be long dead or possessed.”

Leon frowns, “I… don’t know? Not that sort of demon, I guess.”  
  
Raihan snorts. “You’re not into torturing or dragging people’s souls to Hell?”

“Torturing, no,” Leon hums thoughtfully, the spoon still hanging in his mouth. “Never really been into that, if ’m being honest. Damning people sort of depends, I guess, but humans have been doing a really great job of doing it to themselves that it’s kind of overkill.”

“Huh,” Raihan says, because he’s never really thought about it from that perspective. “But could you?”

Leon shrugs. “Probably,” He thinks for a bit longer. “But there needs to be a contract where there’s a big enough exchange to justify the whole trip down. Otherwise it’s an unfair trade-off— like Ouija boards are.” He adds hastily, as an afterthought.

Raihan tries not to let his shoulders sag too much with relief. If Leon notices, he doesn’t comment. “So you sort of get to make up the rules, then?”

“More or less,” Leon finally plucks the spoon out of his mouth, inspecting the smooth surface. For a moment, his voice sounds distant. “There’s been a lot of changes over the past millennia that they’re not really picky about contract guidelines anymore. I’m allowed to do pretty much anything as long as it’s not too overboard.”  
  
Raihan elects not ask more about _them_ , given his previous experience with how Leon tends to shut down whenever they get close to discussing the politics of his home. He gets the same way whenever Raihan tries to ask about his lack of stereotypical demonic features too. 

So instead, Raihan lets himself ponder a bit about how Leon has the ability to do literally anything, now that Raihan’s somehow given him permission to materialize in this world. And instead of wreaking havoc or starting the apocalypse like any textbook demon would, Leon is here, sitting on his couch and watching the Manchesters play while eating cereal. 

“So why don’t you?”

Leon scoops another wad of soggy cornflakes into his mouth. He chews noisily, and shrugs again. “I like humans.”

* * *

“Don’t stare at him like that, you’ll spook ‘im.” Raihan calls out as he kicks his shoes off at the front door. 

Leon is standing before Duraludon’s tank, hands and face pressed up into the glass. “‘m not spooking, I just can’t see him.”  
  
Raihan rolls his eyes as he saunters over. “That’s called spooking him— he’s hiding from you. Move over,” he nudges the crestfallen demon out of the way and lifts the roof of the tank. Raihan makes a few clicking noises, and smiles as Duraludon peeks his head out, tongue darting out nervously before he recognizes his owner. Then, he’s scampering onto Raihan’s open palm and curling up around his bicep. “There we go. How’ve you been, baby? Were you scared?”  
  
“He was _not_ scared,” Leon huffs. “I’m not scary.”

“Says the big fiery demon with shadow powers from Hell.” Raihan grabs Duraludon gently from his arm, holding him out to Leon. “Here, take ‘im.”

Leon opens his mouth, about to protest against Raihan’s previous statement, but it falls short once he sees the little lizard being held out towards him. “ _Oh_ ,” he says, and Raihan tries not to dwell on how soft his expression looks right now. 

“Come on,” he moves Duraludon to one hand, using his other to lift Leon’s hand and turn his palm upwards. “Just hold your hand out, and he’ll come to you.” Leon obliges hesitantly, and Raihan nudges Duraludon towards it. 

Duraludon leans forward, tongue flicking out in Leon’s direction before he’s wiggling out of Raihan’s grip and onto Leon’s palm. He crawls his way quickly up the demon’s arm, looking around at the new change of perspective. He perches himself on his shoulder and chirps. 

Leon laughs, delighted, and, despite the irony, Raihan is reminded of the sound of an angel’s choir. 

“Didn’t take you for the pet type,” he says as he watches Leon run a finger along Duraludon’s spine gently. 

“Animals have no sin,” Leon says fondly, and coos back at Duraludon. The lizard seems to perk up, now nestling closer for more pets. “Also, they’re very sensitive. He knew I was here before I even introduced myself to you.”

Raihan frowns. “He did?” He spares a glance at his pet monitor. Duraludon, as if sensing his caution, looks back and flicks his tongue out at him. Little traitor.

“Yep! Wary at first maybe, but he was fine once I caught him a few flies while you were out. Reptiles are understanding like that.” 

Raihan cocks an eyebrow. “So you bribed him?” He looks back at Duraludon, this time accusingly. “And _you_ let yourself get bribed by _him_?” 

“Hey!” Leon crosses his arms. “He’s just a lizard, he doesn’t know much better. Besides,” he bats his eyes at Raihan, “I bribed you too, didn’t I?”

Raihan scoffs, but averts his eyes just so he can at least _try_ to wipe the image of Leon batting his eyes from his mind. It doesn’t work. “As in, confessing you had nowhere else to go so you can take advantage of my kindness like some lost stray?”

“More or less,” Leon hums and places Duraludon gently back into his tank after a few more scratches. “I _am_ a demon, you know. Being persuasive is in my nature.”

“Your scrambled eggs _are_ good,” Raihan thinks out loud. “Alright, you’ve convinced me.”

“See? Knew you’d understand.”

Raihan rolls his eyes at Leon’s smug grin. “I’m just gonna pretend this conversation is all because of some demon hoodoo you have going on that I’m too weak to resist.” He walks to his living room in favor of shedding his winter coat and curling up in an armchair.

Leon follows and sits down next to him, expression now pointed. “I don’t actually do that, Rai.”

Raihan hums, “no? Or are you just unaware that you’re using your natural demonic charms on me?”

“Uh,” Leon frowns, “...No?” He falls silent after that, expression concentrated and mouth scrunched up into a thin line. Raihan cannot believe this demon is actually taking what he said seriously. 

“I’m not,” Leon says finally, after a good minute or two of thinking. He puffs out his chest. “At least, I don’t think so.”

For _fuck’s_ sake, he looks so proud of himself. Raihan sighs and reaches over to ruffle Leon’s hair. “I know you ain’t, you big dumb hunk of meat.”

“Really?” Leon looks relieved, his gold eyes bright underneath the mess Raihan’s made of his bangs. “That’s good! I mean— I _am_ sort of your guest here so I don’t want to overstep too much, in case that messes up the contract somehow.” He smiles at him before standing up. “How does sweet curry sound tonight?”  
  
“Only if you put in less than ten tablespoons of sugar, mate.” 

Leon pouts at him and Raihan shrugs, “Not all of us have the metabolism of an immortal deity, Leon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Leon sniffs as he turns to the kitchen. 

Raihan lets his eyes linger on Leon for a moment before he yanks his gaze away in favor of scrolling through his social media. 

* * *

In hindsight, Raihan probably should’ve seen it coming.

For some reason, the idea that he’s technically hiding a literal demon from the rest of the human society doesn’t sink in— even though Leon’s already been living with him for a little less than three weeks now. Raihan supposes it’s on both of them; he’s used to keeping pictures of his apartment and private life off of social media, content with his followers knowing little to nothing about his living situation besides the occasional aesthetic desk or office snapshot. Leon, on the other hand… Well, Raihan doesn’t really know what the demon does while he’s out of the house, but he seems to be keeping everything low-key if people haven’t yet come marching to Raihan’s apartment with pitchforks and crosses. All is well.

So, it’s kind of Raihan’s fault that he gets a _bit_ too complacent with his living situation. Especially when February rolls around, and he forgets the arrangement he has every second week of every month.

But Raihan’s been spending most of his free time staring at Leon’s ass instead of planning out his work schedule, so maybe it’s really Leon who’s to blame in the end.

He wakes to the sound of his doorbell ringing on a late Saturday afternoon. Raihan groans and rolls over, shoving his face into the pillow and trying to drown himself in cushion before he actually needs to get up as per society’s expectations.

“I’ll get it!” Leon calls from down the hallway, and Raihan hears the tell-tale click of his door latch opening. “Oh. Hello,”

“.... Hi.” 

Raihan allows himself the luxury of rolling around in his linens a bit longer as he wonders briefly about whoever the fuck that sarcastic drawl belongs to. Guy seriously needs to lighten up.

Then, it hits him.

“ _Shit-!_ ” Raihan bolts upright, scrambling out of bed and into the hallway. He stops at the sight in front of him, stomach dropping. “Uh, fuck.” 

Piers cocks an eyebrow from where he’s standing in the doorway, just barely able to see over Leon’s shoulder. “Nice to see you too. It’s past noon.”

“Yeah— shit, my bad,” Raihan rubs at the back of his neck and tugs at the hem of his t-shirt gingerly. “Sorry mate, overslept.”

“Whatever. ‘Least you remembered to put on a shirt beforehand.” Piers pushes his way past Leon, slinging in a couple of grocery bags and a bass guitar case over his shoulder. He kicks his shoes off and plops the bags onto Raihan’s coffee table. Raihan and Leon look on.

“Uh, this is Piers,” Raihan offers belatedly to Leon, “We hang out every second week of the month.”

“If you told me you had someone over I’d’ve called it off ‘til next week.” Piers leans back against the couch and kicks his feet up. “Thought you weren’t into them staying afterwards.”

Raihan chokes. He hears a short sound of realization from Leon, and tries to make a hasty remark before the demon can react. He fails.

“I’m Leon,” Leon announces, as he steps around Raihan to stand in front of Piers. “Raihan’s new flatmate. He’s told me a lot about you and your work together.”

“Pleasure,” Piers replies, unimpressed. He turns his head to look at Raihan, “Also thought you weren’t into roommates.”

“It’s complicated,” Raihan admits, finally managing to get his feet to move over so he can join Piers on the couch. Leon remains standing, his expression unreadable as he looks between the two.

“Basically, he’s new around here and I’m letting him stay ‘till he finds a place of his own.” It isn’t that far off from the truth, and Piers seems to buy it. “Sorry, he’s probably gonna sticking around for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t mind,” Piers says as he pulls out his bass and rests it on his lap, plucking a few strings. “Leon, right? D’you play?” 

Leon blinks, snapping out of whatever trance he was in before at Pier’s question. He struts his way around the couch— and wow, is he wearing one of Raihan’s hoodies again, _what the fuck_ — and plops down on Pier’s other side, eyeing the bass guitar. “No, but I’m familiar. Used to listen to rock a long time ago.”

“Really?” Piers barely raises his eyebrows, but Raihan can tell he’s surprised. He also tries not to think about how Leon is probably referring to how he’s been the literal symbolic inspiration for all of Piers’ favorite bands. With how anemic Piers looks all the time, he’ll probably pass out if he ever finds out the truth.

Leon seems to register this too, because he just shrugs nonchalantly instead of going through a long historical recounting like he’s prone to do around Raihan. “Just the big names. Led Zeppelin, Mick Jagger, Mayhem, et cetera. Black Sabbath was good too, but I didn’t really vibe with the mixed message they were trying to get across. Sign of the Southern Cross is still a banger, though,”

“Media misrepresentation,” Piers says, looking more interested than Raihan’s used to seeing. “Have you tried playing?”  
  
Leon shakes his head, and Piers tunes the bass a bit more before holding it out to him. “C’mere, I’ll teach you some riffs. The basics are pretty simple.”

“Aight, stop flirting with Piers, Leon,” Raihan says as he goes to grab the bags off the table. “He’s gonna be showing you around his weird sex dungeon before you know it.”

“It’s not a sex dungeon,” Piers says, at the same time Leon asks, “Sex dungeon?”

“It’s just where I keep most of the stuff I use for inspiration,” Piers rolls his eyes as he reaches over to adjust Leon’s grip on the bass neck. “Mostly posters and some vintage drum sets and decor. Raihan just has a very selective memory because the first thing he saw in there was a studded collar.”

“Sex dungeon,” Raihan reaffirms while loading the groceries into his fridge. “Oh, damn, you got me Cwtch? Let me love you.”

Piers waves a hand, “Brought back a whole pack from home over the holidays. Figured you could use it after all the adverts I’ve been seeing with your face on them— nope, rest your fingers against it like this— yeah, like that, now do the chords like I showed you.”

Leon makes a few unsure pluck-y sounds on the bass, and Raihan snickers. “Lay off ‘im, mate, he doesn’t even have enough hand-eye coordination to play Switch properly.”

“Music is easier,” Piers flips him off while he adjusts Leon’s hand positioning again. “Yeah, just keep doin’ that ‘till it starts feelin’ familiar. Then you can speed it up.” Leon nods, expression pinched in the same sort of concentration as when he’s choosing between what type of curry to cook for Raihan for dinner. Fucking adorable git. 

“So where’s the board?”  
  
Raihan blinks back at Piers. The other man’s staring at him, one eyebrow cocked, and the look on his face says they both know Raihan’s just been staring at Leon uninterrupted for the past thirty seconds. “The what?”  
  
At this point, eight years into their friendship, Raihan’s used to Piers’s seemingly incorrigible judgmental gaze and exasperated expression. But the look he has on right now feels like a new low, even for Raihan. “The Ouija board you got for Christmas. You said you’d show it to me.” 

“Ah, yeah. It’s in my room,” Raihan gestures for Piers to follow. “Leon, I’m just gonna go show Piers the board I got for Christmas. You good?”

“Yeah,” Leon mumbles, chewing on his tongue as he tries the riff again. “‘M good. Gettin’ the hang of it, I think.”

Raihan nods and heads to the bedroom, Piers trailing after him. He gets there first, and makes a big deal about rifling through his cabinet to see where he could’ve stored the board; if only to pretend he doesn’t hear Piers closing and locking the door behind them.

“Alright,” Piers says. Raihan is suddenly very invested in flipping over every article of clothing he has. “You goin’ to tell me what’s going on, or what?”  
  
He tries his best to keep his back to the other man, even if he can feel Pier’s eyes boring into the back of his head. “It’s really— where the _hell_ did I put it— not what it seems. I swear, he’s seriously just rooming with me.”

Piers sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose; Raihan can hear the rustling of his leather jacket from the movement. “Raihan, it ain’t that I don’t condone your actions— honestly, I really couldn’t give a shit about what you do. But you really expect me to believe that in the month since I’ve last been here, you’ve gotten yourself a live-in flatmate?”

“... Yes?” 

“For your fancy one million-something pound _single-person_ flat in the middle of One Hyde Park that you’ve spent the past five years savin’ up for?”  
  
“Uh,” Raihan doesn’t really know what to say, because it’s the truth. “Oh, would you look at that, I found it!” He turns around and holds the Ouija board out to Piers.

Somehow, Piers looks like he’s died a bit more inside in the time it took Raihan to reply. He takes it from Raihan though, inspects with a scrutinizing eye before placing it on the bed with a grunt of approval. “A’ight, whatever. He’s gotta be good if you’ve been keeping this from the public this long.”

“What,” Raihan’s thought train cuts out for a second. He’d half-expected Piers to somehow be able to connect the dots and figure out that Leon’s a fucking _demon_ , but this is going in an entirely different direction. “We’re not dating.”

Piers raises an eyebrow. “Are you fucking?”  
  
“ _No_.”

“Where does he sleep?”

“I— in the bed, technically, but only ‘cause I felt bad making him stay on the couch all the time—”

“ _Raihan_.”

Raihan gapes. “It’s the truth! I swear to fuck, Piers, he’s just rooming here temporarily.”

Piers snorts, “I’ve spent a total of fifteen minutes around you and all you’ve done is stare at each other’s ass. It’s real disheartening when I’m tryna teach, y’know.”  
  
Wow, Raihan thinks. Leon stares at his ass. Wait, no— wrong conclusion. “Have you seen him? He’s a fucking snack, mate. Like…” He gestures, “everything.”

“I know, which is why I don’t believe you haven’t tapped it yet. You’ve always been a come-and-go, not a sit-here-consumed-by-lust type, _mate_.”  
  
Sometimes, Raihan thinks the eight years of friendship they’ve had is the only thing holding him back from punching Piers’ face in.  
  
Raihan finally caves. “I don’t— really… know where Leon stands on this, I guess.” It’s not that he hasn’t thought about if Leon opposes the idea of sex or not— in fact, he probably _doesn’t_ , given his very nature. But then again, Leon’s been able to subvert every demonic expectation Raihan’s had of him so far, so he could as well be completely celibate for all he knows.

Piers, obviously, doesn’t get it. “Raihan, he literally checked you out every time he thought I wasn’t looking. As your best mate, I sincerely suggest you flip off whatever insecurity you have and _tap_ _that_ so I don’t have to deal with you making strangled noises at every innuendo you hear.”

“Yeah, but… He’s different.”

“How?”

Raihan thinks. The obvious point is that Leon is a fucking infernal demon, who’s just here until whenever someone else comes around to pick him up, but there’s also the way he’s settled in so quickly— and Raihan’s settled in—, like they’ve been living together their whole lives that make him think otherwise. They play off of each other naturally, in a way that Raihan has only ever been able to do with Piers.

Even if Leon was human, Raihan doesn’t think the dynamic between them will change. At least, he hopes not. 

“Just… different. Somehow.”  
  
Piers thinks for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe you need some difference in your vanilla ass life.”

It really is like Piers to act as Raihan’s wingman while also somehow roasting Raihan to death. 

Raihan can’t be grateful enough.

“Seriously, have you even wanked off to h—”

Nevermind. 

* * *

Piers leaves after dinner, but not before giving Leon with a few more tips on his tuning and Raihan more than a few scathing looks. As Raihan understands, hanging out next month is called out until he can sort out the apparent shitfest that is his domestic life and libido.

“What’d you think?” Raihan wipes his hands down after doing the dishes.

Leon looks up from where he’s admiring a Black Sabbath keychain Piers had taken off his bass case and gifted him. “I like Piers,” he says, and toys with the silver chain. “He caught me off guard for a moment— he’s very easygoing for someone with so much darkness around him.”

“Easygoing? Piers?” Raihan scoffs. He expects Leon to defend himself hastily, but he's wearing that distant look again that tells him the demon’s not completely present in this conversation right now. “Ah, well— he does come from a pretty bad place. Mum and Dad died when he an’ Marnie were small, so he had to become financially independent at a young age. Started off as a street musician and— you know the rest.”  
  
Leon nods. Raihan thinks he sees something flicker behind slitted pupils. He doesn’t comment on it. 

“He cares for you,” Leon says, after a long stretch of contemplative silence. “I don’t mind if he comes over more often.”

* * *

He wakes up, sticky with sweat and burning hot.

As always, Raihan’s first instinct is to fill his lungs with air and scream. He squashes it easily— nothing more than just a vestigial reaction from a time in his life he'd much rather pretend didn't exist. Instead, he forces himself to sit up, trying to ignore how much his arms tremble under the weight.

“Raihan?”

Raihan has to stop himself from flinching at the sudden voice— _goddamnit_ , this is really unbecoming. He sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes, counting down from ten: inhale on odd, exhale on even. He takes another one when he reaches zero, and opens his eyes to see bright, yellow pupils staring back at him.

“—m fine,” he manages out, finally. “Just a bad dream.”

He can’t make out the demon’s form in the dark, but the eyes narrow, as if Leon’s squinting at him. “You were making a lot of noise.”

“Yeah, like I said.” Raihan flops back against the headboard, places the back of his hand against his dripping forehead. “I barely remember it now anyways. It just happens sometimes; guess I’ve been under a bit too much stress recently.” He shrugs, if only to try and throw Leon off his trail.

“... Do you want some tea?”

Raihan can’t help but snort, “You a demon or my caretaker?”

“I can be both,” Leon sounds offended, but there’s a bit less caution in his voice now. “You sure I can’t get you anything?”  
  
“Yeah, ‘m good. Probably just gonna take a quick shower now and try to get a bit more—” Raihan stops mid-sentence, one leg already swinging off the bed when he suddenly becomes very aware of how tight his shorts are. “Ah.”

Maybe that’s why he was sweaty.

The room is silent, and Raihan cannot imagine how this looks right now to the demon, now that his glaring hard-on is out in the open for everyone to see.

“I can help with that.” 

The string of unintelligible noises that leave his mouth take with it the last of Raihan’s dignity.

The shadows shift, condense into a solid mass around the pair of glowing eyes, and then Leon is standing next to him, his strong arms guiding Raihan to sit back on the bed. Then, he bends down, and Raihan chokes as he sees that Leon has made the choice of corporealizing _without_ his clothes on.

“You don’t have to, mate—” Still, Raihan takes in all of what he can see of Leon’s body in the dark; purple locks falling over broad shoulders, his perfectly sculpted muscles and abs rippling as he kneels down in front of Raihan, thighs spreading like he’s almost inviting Raihan’s eyes to trail further down—

Leon licks his lips, and Raihan can’t help the whimper that builds up at the back of his throat at the brief glimpse he gets of sharp teeth. His cock twitches, heat pooling around it and Raihan has to bite his lip to stop another keen as he feels the demon’s hands rest against his thighs. Leon begins to lean in even more, and oh god, he can feel his _breath_ against him—

“Leon _,_ ” Raihan tries again, out of desperation, “ _Please_.”

That makes Leon pause. He pulls back, looking up at Raihan. “You don’t want me to?”

“I— no,” Not like this. “I told you, I can take care of it myself.” Raihan says firmly, and manages to nudge Leon’s hands off of him. 

Leon keeps staring at Raihan, his brow furrowed and mouth pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t look disappointed or ashamed, or even angry, expression blank as his eyes search Raihan’s face in the same way Raihan’s trying to decipher his. “... Okay,” he says finally, and pulls back. “Sorry.”

Almost on cue, Leon’s form seems to dissolve back into darkness, until Raihan is left holding the gaze of two floating eyes. The eyes blink once before disappearing altogether, and Raihan knows that he’s finally alone.

“... Shit,” he sighs out, trying to ignore the growing pit of disappointment in his stomach as he hobbles over to the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes, balling them up in a wad in the corner, wraps a towel around his head before turning on the shower.

He’s tempted to turn it cold and freeze his hard-on off, but then Raihan thinks back to the sight of Leon between his legs, heated eyes gazing up at him as he nestles against his thighs, breath ghosting over his clothed cock. 

Raihan steps in, letting out a shaky breath as he feels the hot water wash away all the sweat and dirt from his body. 

His cock twitches and drips for attention, so Raihan wraps his hand around it, hissing a bit at the sensitivity. He strokes it a few times, leaning against the wall for support as he begins to quicken his pace.  
  
“Ah— fuck—,” Raihan lets his head rolls back and mouth drop open in pants as he drags his palm across his cock, hard callouses rubbing against the sensitive parts in a way that makes him see stars. He bites back a moan when he thrusts his hips forwards once, still wary of making too much noise lest Leon overhears.

God, _Leon_. 

Raihan squeezes his eyes shut, inhaling sharply as the image of the demon comes to mind. Leon, letting out small breathy moans as Raihan sucks a hickey against the curve of his gorgeous, unmarked nape— Leon, long eyelashes fluttering as he takes Raihan in down to the hilt, head bobbing and mouth stuffed but still swallowing— Leon, eyes rolled up in his head and expression slack with bliss as he grinds and moans and _writhes_ on top of Raihan’s cock, riding him to orgasm and chanting his name over and over again—

Raihan lets out a choked sound, rutting into his hands as he comes. His legs give out underneath him, and he flops down onto the shower floor, gasping and quivering as he strokes himself through the high. 

But even in the wake of his orgasm, Raihan still can't get Leon out of his mind.

This time, however, he thinks about having the shorter man tucked under his chin and pressed close as they bask together in the afterglow. It feels nice— a different feeling than just jacking off to him, so Raihan lets the thought linger, imagining their usual banter but with soft fleeting kisses and teasing gropes instead of distant looks of longing cast behind each other’s backs.

Raihan thinks of the times he’s seen Leon laugh, his eyes crinkling up and his smile slightly crooked even in his human form. He thinks of waking up to Leon making breakfast, his long hair pulled back in a bushy ponytail as he sets a plate of steaming scrambled eggs on the table. He thinks of Leon, staying up late on the couch and eating cornflakes out of the box as he keeps Raihan company while he’s pulling an all-nighter for a sponsorship. 

For a demon, Leon is alarmingly human. 

So maybe— maybe it’s _not_ that far of a reach for Raihan to expect something more. For the past few months they’ve been together, he’s seen Leon laugh and cry and pout on multiple occasions, and he’s taken such a fond liking to Duraludon that it’s hard to think he’s actually an unfeeling sociopath underneath all the smiles and laughter.

Raihan doesn’t know demons, but he thinks he knows Leon, and that’s enough for him to sit a bit longer under the shower and think about what could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this was meant to be a crack oneshot but then it got too long whoops. second part is already done and will be uploading it soon!! it gets more interesting i promise
> 
> Follow me on twitter @murphystoffelis to track my writing progress! I also draw!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Perfect Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it’s some sick joke that he still finds himself still pining after the demon. He’ll never be able to have Leon; never be able to understand him, because Raihan is human and Leon is not— no matter how much he wishes otherwise. But at the very least, they still have time together, and Raihan is going to take all of it in stride. 
> 
> Because Leon is always changing, always pushing forward while Raihan is stuck in place with his own mortality— but god be damned if he can’t at least _try_ to get him to look back over his shoulder at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow im so sorry this turned out so long i had to cut it in half again and also midterms ate up all my time. but hoo boy buckle in cause its gonna be a bumpy ride
> 
>  **tw:** heads up there will be mentions of family trauma and religion on raihan's part towards the end of the chapter!! nothing super explicit tho but you have been warned
> 
> enjoy!!!

It’s been a week since his post-nut revelation in the shower, and Raihan is none the wiser.

Rather, coming to terms that he may be harboring _some_ sort of feeling for Leon that isn’t entirely sexual has only made things harder, because now Raihan can’t seem to go a day without thinking about him.

Despite his usual habits, Raihan has had a few flings before— things that lasted maybe at most six months at a time— so it’s not unlike he’s totally inexperienced in the field of dating. As far as he’s concerned though, he’s _never_ felt this way about anyone except Leon.

At the same time, it’s precisely because Leon is different that Raihan’s unsure of where to go from here. He thinks he can get past all the demon stuff, mostly. Besides the disapparating and night vision, Leon’s powers don’t seem that extreme, especially when their owner seems happier being a housewife than doing anything particularly demonic. He also doesn’t seem to possess any sort of demonic features sans the occasional slit pupils and shadowy shapeless form, whether by choice or not, which makes things a lot easier if they ever go public.

A part of him can just hear Piers’ exasperated sigh at how much Raihan’s thought about this, and how much he’s willing to excuse— but Raihan’s never really been known for his good decisions, anyways.

What he’s mostly uncertain about, still, is where Leon personally stands on this; if he even has a stance at all.

Leon has lived longer than a millennium and for all he knows, Raihan could just be— _is—_ just a whim he uses to pass time in his immortal lifespan.

He’s a droplet of water, falling into the vast, immeasurable ocean that is no doubt all the things Leon’s seen and experienced so far, to be washed away and consumed and lost among the rippling tides. He is less than a millisecond's worth of the time Leon has and will have on this earth— a fleeting impulse that doesn’t even have the chance to fire before it’s gone from his mind. It’s only a matter of time until Leon loses interest and moves on, and leaves him to dissolve into oblivion.

All of this, Raihan knows already. But then he thinks of soft hair and even softer smiles, and, well, there’s really no way out of this pit that he’s dug himself into.

Maybe it’s some sick joke that he still finds himself still pining after the demon. He’ll never be able to have Leon, never be able to understand him, because Raihan is human and Leon is _not_ — no matter how much he wishes otherwise. But at the very least, they still have time together, and Raihan is going to take all of it in stride.

Because Leon is always changing, always pushing forward while Raihan is stuck in place with his own mortality— but god be damned if he can’t at least _try_ to get him to look back over his shoulder at him.

* * *

“Do you want to come to work with me?”

“What?” Leon blinks from where he’s lying upside down on Raihan’s couch, feet sticking up in the air and arms spread-eagled.

Raihan has a lot of emotions about this, but he’s long learnt that he’ll have plenty of time to dwell on it later in private. He opts instead to just sigh and readjust his satchel in mock exasperation. “I said, wanna come with? I just gotta drop some things off at the studio.”

Leon perks up, his expression hopeful. “Really?” He tries to sit up, but can only wiggle around aimlessly when he finds himself stuck in the position.

“Yeah, I reckoned it’s pretty boring staying in the flat all the time, so we could walk around a bit after an’ get you some clothes or whatever you want afterward.” Raihan frowns, "Wait— can you even leave the house?"

Leon shrugs, “Yeah— I get to make the contract rules, remember? Not that I don’t want to come, though.” He adds quickly, as if scared Raihan might rescind his offer. “For real though, I can come?”

Raihan raises his eyebrows, trying to look less impressed than he actually is. “S’long as you can get up by yourself, bruv.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Leon rolls off of the couch onto the floor, scrambling to his feet there. He stands up, hair and bangs a mess, and grins at Raihan expectantly.

“... And change into something more appropriate.” Raihan’s eyes trail down to the oversized t-shirt Leon’s wearing and— knowing him, that’s probably the only thing he has on right now. Unrequited feelings or not, Raihan’s already resigned himself to being around Leon as his personal hell.

“Ah— right,” Leon says, looking down at himself. He doesn’t even have the audacity to look bashful before his image flickers, and Leon’s changed into a simple plain shirt and black pants in a blink of an eye. He runs a hand through his hair, combing the unruly parts down and tying the longer strands into a low ponytail. “Sorry. Is this good?”

Raihan inspects him for a bit, before nodding in approval. “Good enough. Put this on over it, though.” He hands over a sleek windbreaker; one of the lighter but still stylish pieces he keeps on his person at all times in case it gets a bit cold out.

Leon slips the jacket on, giving it a few tugs because of the way it barely manages to fit over his stupid tits. “I keep forgetting how you have to maintain your public persona whenever you go out with your fame. Seems much easier to go out without having to worry about what impression your clothes or style for the day are making.”

Raihan shrugs and hands Leon a cap and sunglasses. “I don’t mind it really— kinda just comes with having a big media presence both on and off of social media. Y’know I’m always happy to please my fans.”

“Won’t seeing the two of us in public start rumors though?” Leon says as he puts the sunglasses on. He blinks, “Wow. Everything's dark.”

“That’s what they do,” Raihan checks to make sure he’s brought his keys before gesturing for Leon to follow. “And nah, mate— I’ve already been shipped with pretty much everyone I work with that it’s nothing new anymore. The paparazzi'll probably write you off as some new guy on the block or an extremely lucky fan.”

“Even Piers?”

Raihan makes a face, “Especially Piers, and _especially_ after they found out that we used to room together during college.” It’s not that Raihan is particularly opposed to thinking of Piers in that way—but, well, with all that both of them have been through, it’s just another shitfest waiting to happen. At this point, they’ve come to a mutual agreement that it’s better to just remain best mates instead of trying to unpack their own respective emotional trauma packages and figure out what exactly they have going on between them. The media can take that as they will.

Leon nods seriously. “Idol worship has always been a major part of civilisation. People like adoring and despising those who have what they don’t, as a way to live their lives through them. Idols like the idea of living hundreds of others’ lives for them. Humans are fickle like that.”

Raihan frowns, “Now you’ve just gone and made it creepy.” He complains and flicks at Leon’s ponytail as compensation. “Just wait ‘till you get a social media and we’ll see who gets the power-trip."

“I could become an influencer,” Leon says in awe, as if not he's already proving Raihan’s point.

Raihan snorts at the thought of Leon having his own social media account, doing sponsorships and modeling gigs and posting inspirational quotes every other day. It’s… not a bad idea, actually. He definitely has the looks for it, as well as the overwhelming, unshakeable confidence to really put himself out there as Raihan does. “We can try setting up some accounts for you when we come back. It’ll give you something to do when you’re alone in the flat anyways.”

“The power of the Internet,” Leon says, still sort of dazed at the thought of virtual fame. “After two centuries of Ouija board summonings, I can finally have a following again.”

“I think you’re severely misinterpreting the meaning of followers,” Raihan says as he pushes the giddy demon out of the door. “Let’s teach you how to login first.”

As it turns out, Leon really wasn’t lying about being directionless, because Raihan spends the next thirty minutes trying to guide him in the right direction of the Tube.

Still, it’s kind of endearing to see Leon so confused by modern society, as he spends most of the time on the subway watching the walls and tunnel lights fly past. It’s not… exactly what Raihan would consider interesting, especially since the demon is perfectly capable of teleporting from place to place, but Leon is so caught up fawning over the progress of human technology he doesn’t have the heart to take it from him. There’s a part of him that feels kind of guilty that he didn’t think of this sooner, seeing how the demon’s so eager to be out and about like a child at Disneyland, so Raihan files it into the back of his mind to make more time in his schedule where he can take Leon out and show him around.

Also, since Leon somehow managed to walk in any direction besides _forwards, y'know, through the turnstile_ while they were in the station, it’s probably best if Raihan tags along at all times.

There’s still some time before their stop, so Raihan opts to pull out his phone now that Leon isn’t in danger of wandering off. He snaps a quick selfie to post online, before slyly switching his camera around so he can take one of Leon leaning his forehead against the glass and gazing out the window with a look of astoundment.

His phone’s shutter clicks, and the photo pulls up automatically. Raihan feels his body freeze over.

Because there’s something— something right across from him, sitting in Leon’s place, in Leon’s exact position, and it’s large and black and _dark_ —

The train jerks to a sudden stop.

“Delete that.”

Leon’s voice is quiet, almost indiscernible among the nervous murmur of the passengers around them. He hasn’t moved from his pose near the train window, hand still pressed up against it and slight smile etched onto his face as he stares out into the darkness of the tunnel.

The lights inside the train flicker and buzz, sending another anxious ripple through the crowd.

Raihan swallows and nods. He keeps his eyes on Leon, not really daring to look away lest he ends up glimpsing the photo again, fingers pulling up the delete button by memory. He takes it off of his camera roll, and, for good measure, wipes it from his phone completely.

The whole time, Leon doesn’t make eye contact with him once.

“... It’s gone,” Raihan says slowly after a while, as the intercom blares with the operator asking people to remain calm while they call maintenance. He slips his phone back into his jacket pocket, only slightly aware of how clammy his hands are from cold sweat.

“Thanks, Rai.” Leon doesn’t even so much twitch, but the train starts up on its own again.

They spend their last few stops sitting in silence, Leon counting the number of adverts that go by and Raihan trying very hard not to shit himself from what just happened. He gets up when it’s their stop, pausing for a bit until he sees Leon following suit, before leading both of them off the train once the doors open.

Despite himself, and pretty much every nerve in his body screaming for him to take his immortal soul and run, Raihan decides to press the matter. So, to convince himself this is fine, _everything_ is fine and Leon did _not_ just stop an entire public transit vehicle without even so much as _blinking—_ Raihan fakes a yawn and throws an arm over the demon’s shoulder. “Not a fan of photos, eh?”

He can feel Leon stiffen up for a moment, before the demon lets out a sigh, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Not a problem, mate,” Raihan lets out his own little breath of relief. “Just— should’ve mentioned it sooner before I freaked you out in the middle of the subway.”

“I know,” Leon says, expression pinched as they walk out of the station. “It’s… complicated. Sorry again.”

“Hey, I get it,” Raihan shrugs. “Photos ain’t for everyone. I should’ve known better too—silver in camera film, an’ all that. That’s on me.”

Leon frowns, “Silver?”

“Yeah, like the holy metal. Gold too, especially in phones.”

“Ah,” Leon says, “Yeah, that too, I guess.” The tone of his voice says there’s something more, but Raihan doesn’t bother pushing further.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You can still be a bloody good influencer without taking as many selfies as I do— just look at Piers or Kabu for example.”

Leon is silent, and Raihan thinks how that probably marks the end of the conversation, considering how this is usually when the other closes himself off; keeps Raihan at an arm’s length away before he can probe any deeper. Well, figuratively, at least.

“I don’t like the impression it leaves on people.” Leon keeps his eyes on the sidewalk, allowing Raihan to weave them through the masses of people walking past.

Raihan frowns, “What do you mean?”

“It…” Leon presses his lips together. “It gives them the wrong impression. That I’m— I’m something that I’m not. But everyone has their own interpretation regardless.”

Leon is still staring at the ground, his expression sullen and brooding. Raihan can’t help flashing back to his own experience with growing up in the public eye, and the general shitfest of a childhood that came before that. Leon looks exactly how Raihan felt back then— lost and hesitant, unsure of exactly what he was meant to do with his life besides what other people expected of him. It hits closer to home, when he thinks back to how excited Leon is all the time to experience human society, if only because no one’s ever given him a chance to do so until Raihan.

For that, Raihan feels himself pull Leon a bit closer.

“I don’t care,” He says, because it’s true. “About any of that. You don’t have to define yourself around what other people—human or not— think of you.”

“But…” Leon looks away, almost as if he’s grown even more ashamed of admitting it. Raihan’s chest twists at the sight. “It’s… I don’t like looking at it.”

“Then you don’t have to,” Raihan resolves, ruffling Leon’s hair. “It’s my bad for taking a photo— definitely should’ve asked permission beforehand. Won’t happen again, Lee, promise.”

Leon seems to perk up at a bit at the nickname. “I’m still sorry though. It probably scared the pants off of you.”

Raihan shrugs, even though it’s not that far from the truth. “Not that big of a deal, the Tube stops all the time that you kinda get used to it. People just blame it on the construction or something.” Leon looks unconvinced, so he tries another tactic. “How ‘bout I show you around my studio and we can get some lunch afterwards? There’s a great dessert shop nearby too.”

The demon definitely perks up at that, before his face reddens and he ducks his head down. “Ah— yeah, that sounds good.”

“Oh, shut up,” Raihan gives him a particularly hard squeeze around the bicep, and marvels quietly at the girth. Fuck. “I know who’s been sneaking sugar out of the jar and it sure as hell ain’t Duraludon.”  
  
“I like sugar,” Leon says defensively, and Raihan snorts.

“Just wait ‘till you try purin, you old dinosaur.”

“Mm,” Leon doesn’t even seem that concerned about the jab. He reaches up to lace his fingers with Raihan’s, leaning closer until his head is resting against the crook of his arm as they continue walking. Raihan lets him.

* * *

Later that day, Raihan posts a photo of himself sitting idly in a window-seat of the cafe, a teasing smirk on his face as he holds a bite of cake out to the camera. It’s not much, but five minutes in and his comment section is already debating who could’ve taken the photo for him, considering that all of Raihan’s immediate associates are confirmed to be on vacation, or have already posted for the day.

He also gets a text from Piers.

 **Piers:** _nice going_

 **Raihan:** _eat a dick_

 **Piers:** _gladly_

Raihan closes his phone before the sarcastic bastard can taunt him more, and turns his attention back to watching Leon concentratedly pick through the entire clothes rack in a store. This is good though, he thinks. Better, in fact. Raihan makes a note in his mind to get Piers something nice next time, before getting up to try and wrestle a giant cape-cloak abomination from Leon’s hands.

* * *

Raihan stares. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah,” Leon scoops out a plate of rice. He hands it over, only for Raihan to set the plate on the counter instead so he can continue staring at the demon.

“ _You_ have a sibling?”

“Humans have siblings.” Leon doesn’t see the point to Raihan’s confusion.

“That’s not the— whatever,” Raihan shakes his head to clear it, and scoops some curry over the rice. “Just— never really pegged you as a big brother.”

Leon puffs out his chest, beaming as large as Raihan’s ever seen. “He’s called Hop! He’s kind of short and small right now but he’s been finally growing after a millennia since I last saw him. He’s also trying out a few contracts for the first time, but I’m sure he’ll get the hang of it soon and catch up! I’m real proud of him.”

Oh, Raihan thinks, watching Leon preen. That’s really cute.

“You said he’s just starting with contracts?” Raihan says, ladling curry out on the second plate of rice Leon gives him. “But isn’t he the same age as you? Like, a thousand or something years old.”

“Yeah,” Leon takes his plate of curry, heading out to the living room. Raihan lets his eyes roam for a bit before following after, appreciating the way his apron cinches the demon’s waist and the shift of his thighs with every step. “I’m older, technically speaking, if you count from the beginning. Dynamics don’t really change when you’ve been together for so long.”

“Oh, to be an immortal un-aging demon with an equally immortal un-aging kid brother.”

Leon makes a face at him as they settle on the couch. “You’re making fun of me. I beat you in Mario Kart last time.”

“Only because you keep getting lucky with blue shells,” Raihan says, trying not to think about how he’s already down on a ten-zero losing streak after Leon had learnt how to play just last month. Apparently, being an omnipotent demon with supernatural powers also includes being very good at video games. “If anything ‘m just gonna make more fun of you.”

“That’s not very good sportsmanship. What about your family?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Raihan grins and scoots closer, careful not to displace the plate of food he has on his lap. He shrugs, “And my family’s not nearly as interesting as yours, mate. They're just a bunch of religious prudes compared to the literal hell incarnate you have as a little bro. Now stop pouting and eat your curry.”

Leon huffs, but does his own fair share of scooching until he’s pretty much pressed the sides of their thighs together. “Whatever,” he says, completely unaware of Raihan’s haphazard gagging sounds, and takes a big indignant bite of rice and sauce. “I’m a good elder brother.”

“‘Course you are,” Raihan says, because he likes babying Leon when the demon gets pissy. “Still haven’t answered my question though.”

Leon thinks, “Hop hasn’t left… home as much as I have. It’ll take a lot more practice before he gets used to being summoned, being a smaller demon and all. That’s why summoning rituals don’t really work most of the time, unless someone big is listening.”

Raihan cocks an eyebrow, “So you just happened to be listening in on my specific Ouija board session?”

“Um…. yes?”

“Aw,” Raihan coos out. “Didn’t think you cared that much.”

Leon’s ears turn red, so Raihan digs into his curry while he watches the demon flounder for words.

“... I’m always listening.” Leon mumbles out after a while, the flush spreading to the rest of his face.

Raihan thinks about the number of times he’s jacked off to Leon in the shower, and shudders from second-hand embarrassment. “That’s kinda creepy.”

“Wh—” Leon breaks off as he sees the look on Raihan’s face. “Not _all_ the time! Just— in case you’re in trouble, or something happens while you’re out—”

Raihan snickers as the demon splutters more. “I know, I know, mate, ‘m just kidding. I appreciate it, Lee.”

“I don’t know why I bother,” Leon pouts at him more. “Piers was right, you make being nice to you so difficult sometimes.”  
  
“Piers would also rather be reincarnated as a rock if it meant not having to interact with people anymore, so he’s really not the best reference if you ask me.”

Leon grumbles in response and pokes at his curry. “What would Hop think of me, getting my ass verbally handed to me by a human.”

“I reckon he’d thank you for being such a humble and open-minded role model of a big brother.”

“He probably would,” Leon admits, perking up a bit. Then, he sags down again and pushes more curry around on his plate. “... I miss him.”

Of all the emotions and expressions Raihan’s seen on Leon so far, this is a first. The idea of Leon having a sibling— or any sort of family relation at all— had never really crossed Raihan’s mind, given that he’s always been so secretive about his background until opening up a bit more recently. It’s plain as day how much he cares about his little brother just from how he speaks about Hop; who, Raihan realizes with a pang, Leon hasn’t seen in more than half a year since they started living together. Leon’s always been so outgoing and friendly and _happy_ to be around Raihan that he keeps forgetting that what they have is temporary— in the end, Leon has his own family to go back to.

“He can come over sometime,” Raihan says, even though he doesn’t really want to think about the implications of Leon finally being able to find his way back home. “Or— you can go visit.” Visit, he says, as if there’s any hope of Leon coming back after he leaves.

The demon only shakes his head, “I couldn’t ask him to come this far to get me; it’d be too dangerous. And going off on my own is just gonna get me even more lost, as you know.” He chuckles a bit, and Raihan forces a smile.

“... Right,” Raihan says and sets his plate aside, sinking feeling still in his chest. “Still though, if you miss him that much you should probably go see him.” He keeps his eyes averted.

Leon is quiet for a moment, before he’s placing his own plate gently down onto the coffee table. “I don’t want to though,” he says, softly.

“Oh,” Raihan says back. He’s still turned away from Leon, but he can hear the other shifting his position on the couch. Raihan stiffens as he feels Leon lean against him completely, shoulders touching. He feels warm and solid pressed up to him like this, the curve of his side fitting almost perfectly against Raihan’s.

“I like being here, Rai,” Leon lets his head loll against Raihan’s shoulder.

Slowly, Raihan inclines his own head so he can place it on top of Leon’s, feeling the soft tips of his hair tickling at his cheeks from the movement. “... Stay longer, then.”

“I will,” Leon hums, and Raihan feels his chest lift. Then, he’s moving his hand closer, resting it gently against the back of Raihan’s hand. It’s gentle, but inviting, and Raihan bites his lip as he turns his palm upwards, a hesitant acceptance to Leon’s gesture.

“Okay,” He says, and their fingers entwine.

They sit there for a while, before Leon gets up to put the plates of cold food away, leaving a lingering warmth in Raihan’s fingertips.

Raihan feels like he’s about to burst, with all of the recent revelations he’s had. Because Leon had just turned down an option to leave, a chance to go see his Hop— whom he's loved for the literal past millenia— again right in front of Raihan. Because he likes being here— here, as in Raihan’s flat, where Raihan _also_ is.

And _Leon_ had been the one who had leaned against Raihan first, who had placed his hand on top of his, who had curled his fingers against Raihan’s. Leon had been the one who initiated, and Raihan’s pulse hammers in his chest as he runs the past five minutes over and over again, going over every detail in his head because maybe— just _maybe—_

He thinks back to the past few weeks, how Leon’s been pressing closer and closer with small fleeting touches and gestures after their first date; but he’s always been so subtle, so hesitant as if waiting for Raihan to notice and reciprocate. And god— Raihan is so fucking dense if it’s taken him this long to link everything together.

Leon is still in the kitchen, so Raihan lurches to his feet. He stops in the doorframe, heart in his throat.

The demon has his back to him, running the soapy dishware under water. His posture is straight, alert, so Raihan knows he’s listening.

“Hey,” he says, and takes a few steps closer. “So, uh, were you really serious about staying?”

“Yeah,” Leon loads the plates into the dishwasher and dries off his hands. “Unless… you don’t want me to?”

“ _No_ ,” Raihan says quickly. He’s standing behind the demon now, almost towering over him. “I— I want you to, I mean.” He’s usually pretty slick with words, but Raihan stumbles, tongue too thick and big all of a sudden. “But you don’t gotta feel obligated just— ‘cause of me, mate, and—“

Leon turns around to face him, and Raihan’s words die on his lips.

Leon’s eyes _burn_ —bright and golden— with a sort of intensity that both freezes and sets Raihan’s blood ablaze. His pupils are dilated, almost to the shape of diamonds, staring him down to the deepest parts of his soul. Raihan can’t help think back to their first meeting, trapped and facing his own fragile mortality before a dark being with such depth, power and knowledge he can’t ever possibly comprehend.

At the same time, though, there’s a raw tenderness in Leon's eyes, like Raihan’s seeing his own emotions reflected back at him; the same sort of need and _want_ that he’s felt for the past six months, directed back at him in a way that melts away all of his other thoughts and insecurities.

In any case, Raihan is powerless before the demon, and he feels himself _thrive_ at this thought.

There’s still a bit of distance between them, but Leon is the one who closes it as he stands toe-to-toe with Raihan. He’s still a good half a head shorter than Raihan, courtesy of the height of Leon's last vessel. Raihan can't comprehend how he can feel so much while looking into the face of a man he's never met.

“... I know,” Leon says, his head tilted upwards so he can keep holding eye contact. “I want to stay. With you, Rai.”

Raihan’s breath hitches.

Then he’s leaning forward, meeting Leon in the middle as he presses their lips together. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, thoughts in disarray and emotions whirling in his chest. Raihan can only think feverishly, _soft and warm and wet_ , as he just feels Leon’s mouth against his. He tastes _good_ —past the lingering flavor of curry— sort of sweet and a bit smokey, and Raihan can feel the walls he’s been building up for the past few months crumbling down as he swipes his tongue against his gums, already drunk on everything that is the demon before him.

He feels Leon wrap his arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for more. A whimper that breaks past his lips as the demon reciprocates, moving his mouth against his and pushing his tongue into his mouth. He’s surprisingly well-practiced, Raihan notices hazily, melting against Leon as the other sucks on his bottom lip. And god, he wants _more_.

“Raihan,” Leon murmurs when they break for air, a string of saliva between them. He chuckles lightly as Raihan tries to follow.

“—Fuck,” Raihan already misses the feel of the demon on his lips, so he brings him in to mash their mouths together again. “Fuck, _Leon_.”

“Mmm,” Leon nestles closer, guiding Raihan to place his hands on his hips. Raihan feels himself grow weak in the knees as he wraps his arms around Leon, feeling the narrow of his waist and the amount of strength in his build as he holds him close. God— it’s everything— everything he ever wanted and even more, and Raihan lets out a small strangled sound as he buries his face into the warmth of Leon’s neck, breathing in his scent.

He laughs, dragging his hand through Raihan’s dreads, nails just lightly scratching against his scalp and sending shivers down his back. “You okay there, mate?”

“No,” Raihan admits as he pulls back. “—I mean, yes— just, fuck, Leon. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”  
  
Leon actually has the nerve to pause for a moment, head tilted in mock-thought. “Hmm. Maybe since the first week I’ve been here?”  
  
“Fuck you,” Raihan says and kisses him again to shut him up. Leon smirks and gives him a particularly sharp bite, making him choke a bit from the sudden sensation.

“Not here,” the demon says. Raihan doesn’t get to ask what he means before he finds himself sitting on his bed, Leon straddling his hips.

“Wh—” His stomach lurches at the sudden teleportation, but Leon kisses him quiet. “Did you just—”

“Makes things quicker and easier,” Leon hums and grinds his hips down against him. Raihan lets out a groan, the sensation sparking heat through him. Leon looks so nice sitting on top of him like this, every angle of his body fitting perfectly against Raihan’s with his strong thighs resting against his hip bones and the curve of his ass already pressing against his crotch.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Raihan says, breathlessly.

“I get that a lot,” Leon shrugs, the overconfident git. He takes off his shirt and apron, and Raihan thinks he must be dreaming as his eyes roam over perfect abs and pecs that he’s long thought about running his hands across. “Just sit back and enjoy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Raihan says, not really registering Leon’s words as the demon angles his chin to the side with a gentle hand, mouthing at his nape. “ _Ah_ , Lee— what are you—”

Leon pulls back, a low purring building its way up through his throat as he looks at the darkening hickey on Raihan’s skin. “Took you long enough,” he chuckles, tongue swiping over sharp canines. “You know this was an option from the beginning, right?”

That makes him pause, amidst soft touches and fluttering kisses against Leon’s stomach. “What?”

Leon blinks, “From the start. But—ah, maybe I did sort of end up frightening you off that first night I tried to suck you off. Sorry, it’s probably my bad then.”

Raihan stares, trying to comprehend the words that are coming from the demon’s mouth. “The start of what?”

“The contract,” Leon says, oblivious, and Raihan goes numb.

“What about it?” His hands are still on Leon’s hips, but Raihan directs his gaze sideways, focussing instead on the blank wall of his bedroom.

“... That we can have sex?” Leon sounds confused. “I’ve been specifically summoned for it before, so it’s not that big of a deal. Plus, you’ve been giving it off ever since I came, but I figured you’d sort of come into it on your own. After the blowjob incident, and all.”  
  
Right, Raihan thinks. Because Leon is obviously an empath, given that he'd been able to sense Piers' depression immediately after their first meeting. He's probably also been able to sense Raihan's raging libido, then, which means Leon's known about Raihan's feelings since the first week—for the past _six months_ — and has been initiating physical contact to try and ease Raihan into sex after he apparently scared him the first time with the blowjob.

Everything clicks, but more into place than he wants it to. 

He keeps his face carefully blank and thoughts dull, but Raihan can feel his entire world falling apart around him.

“Raihan…?” Leon’s fingers brush against his cheek. Raihan jerks away like he’s been electrocuted, expression still stony. “Talk to me.” His voice is gentle, lulling in the same way it gets when they’re lying together on the couch after a late-night movie, and Leon’s trying to rouse Raihan to go to bed after he fell asleep on his shoulder. The hole in Raihan’s chest only widens.

“Rai, please _._ ”  
  
Raihan lets his eyes slip close. “I don’t know, _Lee_. Why don’t you try reading what I’m givin’ off right now?”  
  
Leon frowns, his brows furrowing, and Raihan can tell in the silence that he’s scanning through the energy or darkness or whatever the fuck is supposed to be around him. “ _Oh_ ,” he says in a small voice. “Oh. Raihan, I—”  
  
Raihan sighs, going to sit up against the headboard. “Get out.”

Leon scrambles off of him at the movement but remains on the bed. “Raihan, I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t know you— I’m—”

“Get _out._ ”

Leon falls silent, his eyes wide and pupils contracted. He looks like he wants to say more, but Raihan doesn’t think he can stand his chest being ripped open any more than it already has.

Then, he vanishes.

Raihan waits until he’s sure Leon’s presence is completely gone from the room, before he’s sagging down, holding a hand over his eyes. He’s not a crier— never has been, but Raihan can’t help but let out a choked sob as he pulls his knees against his chest and thinks about how dumb he’s been.

Because in the time that Raihan’s been trying to sort through the mess that is his feelings towards the demon, he’s forgotten that they’re only ever just vices for a thing he’ll never be able to have. Leon has never been human— will never be human, no matter how much he acts and cares like one; no matter how well he’s played up this facade in front of Raihan for the past six months. He wonders if he’s ever noticed it; maybe seen how Leon’s slitted eyes are unreadable and un-emoting compared to the rest of his animated expression, and only chosen to ignore it because of his own wishful thinking.

Because Leon is susceptible to basic human urges like food and sex, but never anything deeper or meaningful than that. As Leon put it himself, he only ever _likes_ humans. Not love. Never love.

Not like how Raihan loves him.

He doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh, given that it’s taken him so long to reach this realization. All Raihan can really think about now is how much he feels like a child again, miles away from home after running away and nothing to show for it besides the knowledge that he’s been living a lie this whole time. At the very least, Leon had made it a good one this time.

Raihan can overhear the sound of the dishwasher starting up again. It's only help, though, is making him want to suffocate himself in his blanket and disappear from his own life, since the demon still apparently hasn’t.

Leon is something Raihan will never have, and he knows that for real now, so all he does bury his face into his pillow and try very hard not to breathe.

* * *

It’s quiet, the following few days.

Leon is still here, still upset and still worried, even though the demon tries very hard not to show himself around Raihan. He doesn’t appear before him, but Raihan’s long gotten used to the slight temperature drop and cold spots that come with the demon’s incorporeal form that he can tell when Leon is nearby or in the room.

At least he keeps to a respectable distance, floating around the TV if Raihan’s in the living room or atop the washing machine if he’s doing laundry— but always following Raihan around the flat.

He can tell Leon’s waiting for him to speak first, having come to the conclusion that he’s already overstepped his boundaries; a reaction he probably picked up from their time together or some other time that he spent in the human realm.

Raihan would laugh, he thinks, if his chest wasn’t as raw and hollow as it was.

Instead, he pretends not to notice, continuing to go about his business and slipping on an extra layer indoors. Leon doesn’t seem too inclined to follow Raihan outside, so he uses this to his favor; getting up earlier than usual and leaving the flat without breakfast and snagging Milo or Nessa to go out for late-night clubbing. Leon doesn’t react to this, only flitting around Raihan when he comes back at three a.m. and hovering cold air over him until he goes to bed.

The only time he _does_ react is when Raihan is cleaning out his clothes cabinet on the fourth day of silence.

Raihan is elbow-deep in his sock drawer, Leon perched on top of the cabinet watching him try to dig out a pair that matches his shoes for the day. His hand brushes against something smooth and hard at the bottom of the cabinet, and he frowns. Then, he’s hooking his fingers beneath it to pull it up to the top.

He manages to tug it out, and Raihan finds himself staring at the Ouija board. He had forgotten he’d stored it there, after Piers had come over to see and Raihan had decided that trying to gift it to anyone was probably too risky. It’s in pretty much the same condition as he remembers, planchette and all, albeit dustier from sitting underneath his clothes for half a year. Raihan traces his finger over the engravings, feeling every swirl and every letter etched into the board as he thinks about how much his life has changed from just one bad decision on Christmas.

Then again, he’s lived a life of bad decisions.

His finger trails down. Raihan stops as it lands on the letters at the bottom of the board.

_GOODBYE._

He doesn’t even get to register its meaning before the room’s temperature drops by several degrees, and Raihan can _feel_ the fear emanating off of Leon.

It’s kind of funny, how things come around.

Raihan tucks the board and planchette back into the drawer, closing it and blowing mist out of his nose. He pulls on his socks quickly before his feet freeze over and then stands up to leave. Leon remains on top of the cabinet, and the room remains cold.

He stops in the doorframe and wavers for a moment, hand on the light switch. “Relax,” Raihan says, and feels the room warm up immediately at the first word he’s spoken in four days. “Just because I’m angry at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna hang you out to dry.”

He feels a slight shift in the air, and sighs. “I can’t do this, Leon. Not right now. Give me time and space, okay mate?

“Just… ‘m gonna head over to Piers’ in a moment. If you want to leave just let me know when and I’ll do it when I come back.”

He’s met with silence. But Raihan knows the demon’s agreed, so he turns off the lights with a click and closes the door behind him.

* * *

“So,” Piers says from where he's half slumped on his favorite leather armchair, surrounded by beer cans. “We fucked up.”

“ _I_ fucked up,” Raihan replies, staring up from his position on the ground and trying to see if the number of lights he’s seeing is the same as what’s actually on the ceiling. “You didn’t do anything.”

Piers shakes his head and sips on his fourth or fifth beer. They’ve both lost count. “Nah, mate— I pushed you into it. Should’ve known better than to do it after meeting him the first time. It’s my bad.”

“You just told me what you saw,” Raihan shoots back, because he’s too drunk and angry and sad to listen to his best mate try to take the blame for Raihan’s entire love life. “Which was that we were both looking at each other’s ass. Which I was. Which he was. But not in the way that I was. God, Piers, his ass is so—” He cuts off, and takes another drink. “Fuck me.”

Piers is silent for a bit. “I’m so fuckin' sorry, Raihan. I thought he was into you too.” He does sound genuinely sorry, as much as his drawl allows. “Like— it felt so obvious. He was literally crawling into your goddamn lap the last time I was over, for god’s sake.”

“I know,” Raihan says miserably, counting the ceiling fixtures again. “Turns out Leon just likes being touchy-feely.” And is also a demon and therefore romantically disinclined, but he’s described the situation enough times that he can get the latter part across without mentioning the former. He makes an ugly, choking sort of sound again at the reminder, and flops face-down to bury his face into carpet. “—love ‘im so much, Piers. An’ he doesn’t fucking love ‘e back.”

“... At least you can still be flatmates.” Piers says, kind of unconvincingly, and Raihan lets out a dry chuckle. “Shit doesn't always work out the way you want it to, mate. I don’t really take to people much, but I like Leon. He’s a good man.”

He’s not a man, Raihan thinks but doesn’t say. Instead, he just settles for mushing his face harder into the nylon material.

“It doesn’t sound like he’s not into you.” Another voice says, and Raihan peeks up to see Marnie peering over the dining table at him.

“Begone, Marnie,” Raihan waves a hand at the girl. “Go do—uh— homework or something while the adults talk.”

“Don’t talk to my sister like that,” Piers says.

“I’m doing homework,” Marnie replies. “And you’ve been lying drunk in front of me the whole afternoon.”

“She’s pickin’ up after you,” Raihan complains and reaches over to nurse the rest of his beer. “Thought I came here to drink away all my regrets, not get roasted by a fourteen-year-old.”

“Don’t make it so easy then,” Piers says, just as Marnie says, “You make it too easy.”

Raihan is about to cry.

“A’ight, lay off ‘im, Marns, he's had enough shit for the day,” Piers stands up to try and tug Raihan onto the chair, because he's decided he's seen enough of his unbecoming state. Raihan turns himself into a dead weight instead, and Piers lets him drop back face-down onto the carpet with a disgusted grunt. “Fine, wallow in your self-pity. What’s that you were gonna say, sis?”

Marnie shrugs. “I said, it doesn’t sound like Leon’s not into Raihan. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Raihan pushes himself up with his elbows. “What do you mean?”  
  
“It sounds like Leon was also upset when he found out about your feelings for him. And he hasn’t packed his things yet, right?” She fiddles with her black and pink ball pen. “It just feels like he’s waiting on you to talk it out. Maybe he feels the same way.”  
  
“He hasn’t packed ‘cause he doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” Raihan says back. “And— he’s just waiting for this thing to blow over so he can go back to beating me in Mario Kart. That’s just how he is.”  
  
“Hate to break it to you, but that ain’t who Leon is,” Piers says as he goes to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He downs half of it before placing it in front of Raihan's face and curling back up in his armchair. “Maybe Marns is onto something.”

Raihan scowls and takes a sip, “You _barely_ know Leon. You’ve met him like, a total of five times or something. He’s not who you think he is.”

Piers cocks an eyebrow, “Met him ‘nough times to know he’s also _not_ the type of competition-obsessed, freeloading wanker you just described.”

“He’s scared he hurt you,” Marnie says, “And over-stepped by misinterpreting what you wanted from him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t return the same sentiment, though.”

“Huh,” Piers says, and Raihan scowls harder. “Who’re you to say?”

Marnie shrugs again, “Listening to you mope about what happened over and over again for the past afternoon. I just have a better grasp of emotional intelligence than both of you.”

“That’s my sis,” Piers says proudly, even though he has nothing to be proud of.

Raihan frowns, “He… isn’t like that. He’s like— completely incapable of feeling emotion. I think. He doesn’t know what being in love is.”

Marnie fixes him with the same exasperated look that Piers does. “I think you need to talk to him, Raihan. Even if it doesn’t work out, you can still be friends.”

“Hm,” Raihan says, and rolls over so he can look back up at the ceiling again.

* * *

Piers offers to get him home, but Raihan manages to talk him out of it, since they’re both drunk off their asses and he needs to get up early to take Marnie to school tomorrow. Staying over might have also been nice, if some traitorous part of Raihan wasn’t still a bit worried and scared of the answer Leon’ll have for him when he gets back.

So, Raihan ends up leaving with a pointed look from both brother and sister, which he honestly has started taking as his token goodbye from the siblings.

It’s dark out, so he opts to speedwalk as quickly as he can in the direction of the Tube, hoodie pulled over his head and collar up. It’s not that he’s in any particular danger, considering that this neighborhood’s basically home to a community of rowdy but otherwise harmless rock fans that all but worship Piers and Marnie. Even so, their gangs can still get a bit out of hand driving around the streets, especially when it gets late and Piers' retired back to his flat for the night. In any case, Raihan’s been over frequently enough that most of them seem to recognize him as one of their leader’s close associates— and therefore not to be overly pestered— but the newer members always take a while to be filled in.

He gets about two blocks from the station when he hears the sound of a car pulling up behind him. Raihan sighs and stops walking, tugging his collar down and mentally preparing his drunk ears for the incessant yelling and heavy metal music he knows is to follow after the window rolls down.

“Raihan,” someone says from inside the car, and Raihan sobers up immediately, his entire world zeroing in on the enunciation of that one word.

He can hear his heart quicken, pounding in his ear like a mantra, chest constricting painfully and breath coming into gasps, adrenaline running through his veins as his mind chants to the beat of his pulse, _Raihan_ , _Raihan_ , _Raihan—_

And then, as naturally as he does after a nightmare, he shuts it off.

“Raihan.”

Raihan nods, already walking over to the car door. He gets in, sending a message to Piers that he’s on the Tube home already, before typing out a tweet about taking a quick detox to focus on work and putting it into his timeline’s queue. He falters a bit over phoning his flat, but the person beside him makes an impatient tutting noise, and Raihan opts to tuck his phone back into his pocket instead.

“How long is this going to take?” Raihan stares straight ahead at the back of the driver’s seat.  
  
“Not very.”

“Alright.” Raihan puts in his earphones and closes his eyes. “Wake me up when we get there, _mum_.”

It’s an evocation ritual, he’s told, when he gets there by midnight, and is all but gently man-handled into the meeting room. One they’ve been planning for months, ever since there’s been word of a heavenly deity’s descent into this part of town. They’re short on hands— always have been, ever since Raihan left— but there are a lot of important spots and roles to be filled and jobs to do that they’ve been forced to bring him in for a favour.

It’s complete and utter bull, and Raihan sits through most of it thinking about how it’s probably just some ploy to re-indoctrinate him so he can openly endorse them with his fame and status. It’s laughable, really, in a kind of pathetic way, but Raihan isn't really in the mood to lord it over any of these bastards.

Still, being back together with his parents and the majority of his family resurfaces bad memories that Raihan would really rather _not_ think about right now. They can’t do anything to him— not like before— now that he’s this big of a celebrity with a _very_ active social media presence. Raihan’s only doing this on the account that they’ll leave him the fuck alone for another year. The only thing that can really hurt is the constant reminder that he’s very recently fallen for the same bag of lies that they used to feed him again, only this time dealt out by someone Raihan cared so much more for.

He can’t deal with this right now; not when he’s still reeling from everything that’s going on with Leon.

So, in favor of getting this over with, Raihan takes a deep breath— counts to ten— and shuts the world out completely and gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what i get for trying to write slowburn in under two chapters. part 3 will be out sooner or later this week i promise!! also yah been casually dropping hints that raihan used to be in an oppressive religious family slash cult which explains his very thinly veiled trauma 
> 
> also, im super touched by all the response this fic received in the first chapter!! im really glad people liked this silly demon au ;; 
> 
> the amazing @fivemegos even drew fanart of this on twitter!! view [here](https://twitter.com/fivemegos/status/1229597131792498688) please go check out and support her awesome art <3
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	3. An Instant in Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t like humans,” Raihan says, faintly, as he thinks back to words uttered from over half a year ago; words from a simpler time, where it didn’t yet feel like his entire world revolved around the crying and broken demon before him. “You love them.
> 
> “That’s why you’re still here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning is more or less same as last chapter, nothing explicit but raihan has some lingering trauma about his family after leaving them for ten years and also rants about how stupid their reunion is. all this is only in the beginning-mid section!! also pls excuse my flair for dramatic lighting and tension
> 
> there will be sex
> 
> without further ado, enjoy!!!

It’s kind of disgusting, how quickly he gets back into routine.

Raihan hates how much he remembers, and how naturally it all comes to him despite how he's spent an entire decade trying to separate himself from anything overly religious. He remembers everything; from where to station the holy metals and crosses around the circle, what sigils to put into the ground to prevent infestation of lesser beings and what sort of chants he needs to memorize to evoke the entity itself.

It’s so stupid, _such_ bullshit, that Raihan would tear his own hair out if he hadn’t gotten so used to bottling all of his childhood trauma up inside of him. It’s a farce— a fraud set up by his parents and other religious nutcases who have their heads shoved so far up their asses that they're convinced that they can summon some angel or divine being to grant them access to Heaven.

And Raihan should know, considering the only time a summoning has ever worked for him was when he was sitting sprawled over his couch in front of an Ouija board he got for Christmas.

At the very least, the people he calls his parents know not to bother him outside of whatever it is they need to be done for the ritual. Raihan’s long made it clear— maybe after the first or second time they’ve called him back— that he wants nothing more to do with this and them. The only agreement they’ve got going on is his extra hands for the occasional summoning, in exchange for keeping their mouths shut so they don’t ruin his social reputation. Even then, he’s still the one with more power and influence.

For the most part, Raihan’s managed to keep this part of his life hidden away from his online platforms and colleagues, with nothing to give him away beside a pretty dry look on spiritualism. He’s pretty sure Piers knows— or at least, suspects that there’s a bit more to Raihan’s knowledge of theology trivia than he lets on. After the eight years they’ve been together, though, he knows to keep quiet about his suspicions, the same way Raihan knows not to ask about the two year period after his and Marnie's parents died and before Piers got famous.

Leon, for one, doesn’t seem to have picked up on it, despite how much a dead giveaway Raihan’s general nonchalance about summoning a demon and letting it infest his flat for over half a year was.

That's good for a change, though. Raihan still doesn’t really know what to think of the demon for now.

He’s had some time to dwell on what Marnie had said, but even considering the possibility that Leon might still be interested— might still return the same feelings— makes Raihan’s stomach twist, and then he's scrambling to shove all of these bad feelings back down again. The siblings mean well, so he doesn’t blame them— but they don’t _know_ Leon. They don’t know who Leon really is, nor what he’s hiding behind his human mask; both literally and figuratively.

Then again, neither did Raihan.

Raihan doesn’t know _what_ exactly he’s angry at Leon for. For all he knows, Leon probably doesn’t even know what love is, since all he’s been reading off of Raihan for the past six months is his sexual desire. He’s probably only confused as to where he went wrong since all he’s done is act on the signals and human urges Raihan’s been giving him— as demons are meant to do.

Raihan just doesn’t know how to feel, since he can’t exactly fault Leon for something that’s hard-wired into his nature. In the end, the only person he has to blame for is himself, and his stupid over-attachment to the demon who is literally incapable of feeling anything back.

At any rate, Leon’s probably figured that Raihan doesn’t want him around anymore— which is so, _so_ far from the truth, because the hole in Raihan’s chest just widens more when he thinks of Leon leaving— but he’s already told the demon that he’ll let him go if he wants to. Maybe it’s better that Raihan's here with his asshole of a family, and not back home with Leon, because it means at least he doesn’t have to face losing Leon for good right now.

It’s been a week, he thinks, since Leon happened, and three days since his family happened, and everything still feels like such a complicated, chaotic mess of emotions and other stuff he doesn’t want to vocalize right now. He kind of just wants to curl up into a ball and press his face into his pillow and try to disappear from the world before he has to face what's to come. But Raihan's nowhere near his bed right now, and there’s a lot of things to be done, so all he does is count to ten again under his breath and get back to work.

* * *

The next night, Raihan finds himself kneeling in front of a large summoning circle, dressed in nothing but his old ritual robes. He has the distinct feeling that part of his ass might be hanging out, with how much he’s outgrown them— but with how low his life’s been lately, this might as well happen.

The summoning circle is set up pretty much the same as he remembers; concentric, chalk-drawn, with Enochian letters and Biblical symbols carved into the borders and a large pentagram in the center. It takes up around one-third of the candlelit room that they’ve chosen for the ritual, leaving the rest of the space for him and everyone else to gather in. They’ve placed a line of incense and candles around the outermost circle, and scattered a ring of holy water and thorned roses around the central pentagram. The water, he recalls, is standard protocol to keep whatever—if _any—_ entity they summon and their powers confined to the star and in check.

Raihan’s hand twitches as he looks down at the circle. He flashes back to smaller hands, dusty with chalk, tracing out the exact same lines and symbols out of sheer muscle memory; albeit a bit shakier, and a bit more ingrained through fear rather than practice. The memory makes him shudder a bit, so he shoves it back down in favor of pulling the hood over his head and lighting the stick of incense laid out before him.

The rest of the bastards have already begun chanting, and Raihan can’t help rolling his eyes. It’s probably good that he has literally no intention whatsoever to tell Piers about his backstory, since the pale man will probably have a field day at how much of a hypocrite Raihan’s been about occult shit for the past eight years.

Maybe Raihan _is_ a bit of a hypocrite, considering he _did_ end up summoning a demon to his house. But he can’t help thinking just— how much _better_ and less _cringe-y_ using an Ouija board on his bloody _couch_ was than whatever this bullshit is.

Someone nudges him from behind, and Raihan looks back to see the pointed look his mum gives him. She’s too busy praying to scorn him properly, but the look in her eyes is enough to make his stomach turn. Raihan forces himself to break her gaze.

This is stupid, he thinks as he turns back to face the circle. No one’s coming. They’re just jacking themselves off in a big orgy circle.

Still, out of some weird familial obligation he didn’t think he still had, Raihan feels himself mouth a few words.

“ _Uh_ ,” he says, and gets a very strong sense of deja vu. “Angel. Or. Whoever— if anyone’s listenin’ right now, can you please… give me a sign or something so I can get this over w—”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before the candles blow out.

Raihan can feel the slight panic in the room, even amidst the continued droning chant of hymns around him. It’s not what they expected— they’ve never had a successful summoning before, much less one of such spiritual presence to actually affect the physical world like so. He can hear how scared his family is in the tremor of their prayers, and Raihan allows himself the slight feeling of satisfaction as he continues sitting immobile in front of the circle.

He can’t see anything, but Raihan’s had enough experience with the supernatural these past six months that he’s familiar with the signs.

By the small change of wind in the candle smoke and incense and the slightly darker patch of darkness right before him— there’s someone standing in that circle.

The candles flicker back on.

Raihan keeps his head down as he listens to more of the coven’s horrified gasps. He can see glimpses of the entity’s shadow, cast long and dark from the candlelight around the room. There’s a bit of a curve to the way the silhouette’s projected against the walls, arched in a way that makes Raihan think wings, or some other sort of long appendage. It shifts and flies across his vision, like their owner is turning its body around to take in its new surroundings, and he revels in the terror that sounds off from his family at every movement.

He's vaguely aware that he’s the only one who’s still kneeling in front of the circle, and _wow_ , this feels _extremely_ gratifying and therapeutic. It’s enough for him to try to steal a glance at whatever celestial being he’s summoned, since at the very least he owes it for granting him some closure for all eleven years of his shitty childhood.

Raihan looks up from his spot and—

It’s Leon.

Leon is standing inside the summoning circle.

More specifically, Leon is standing in the center of the summoning circle, looking decidedly human and wearing nothing but sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt _._ He has his hands in his pockets, purple hair tied back in a messy low bun as he peers around curiously at his surroundings.

He’s also _barefoot_. This is literally Raihan’s worst nightmare.

He can hear his family’s sounds of disgust around him, so Raihan figures that they’re probably _not_ privy to the same sight that he is. Leon’s slitted gaze flits over every member, scanning through each of them, and Raihan quickly ducks his head back down when he feels the demon’s eyes land on him. His ears are burning, his face is burning— everything is burning, and Raihan hopes to _fuck_ his flatmate doesn’t do anything to worsen this mortal coil.

Leon, of course, doesn’t listen.

“Human,” he says, loud and booming like he’s some sort of omnipotent godly authority, even though he’s standing half-slouched in sweatpants. Raihan feels a little bit of himself die on the inside. “Why have you called upon me?”

“Uh,” Raihan says back.

There’s a long pause.

“... Raihan?” He can hear the confusion in Leon’s voice.

Raihan pulls his hood back. “... Hey.”

It’s been a week since they’ve last seen and spoken to each other face-to-face, and Raihan hates the way he takes in the sight of Leon like a man starved. He’s _still_ so gorgeous, in his stupid t-shirt and sweatpants, small wisps of hair sticking out of his bun and a bit of stubble around his usually sharp goatee. Leon looks like he’s just crawled out of bed, with unkempt bangs and weary gold eyes and the slightest bit of a pout. It’s the most beautiful sight Raihan’s ever seen.

He can feel Leon’s gaze going over him as well, like molten gold in the dim candlelight, and Raihan has a very late realization that he’s still dressed in his ritual robes.

“Um—” Raihan tugs at the collar of his robes, his face burning, and _fuck_ , he’s never wanted to disappear as much as right now. “I… I can explain.”

Oddly enough, Leon looks just as embarrassed as he does. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, now trying to hide the bit of food stain on the hem of his shirt. “Y-yeah… what… what are you doing here?”

“It’s— uh, family business. Kind of.”  
  
“ _Oh_ ,” Leon says, “Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry, then. Didn’t mean to intrude, I just— thought it was something else. Didn’t think you’d be on this end of the line.” He laughs, kind of forcedly. “Well— um, then I guess I’ll just…”

“...Is that my shirt?”

“What?” Leon glances down at the shirt. “Ah— yeah, it is, sorry. I kinda put it on without looking. I’ll change when I get back.” He rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Okay,” Raihan says.

There’s a bit of a pause again, and Leon shifts his weight around in the circle. “So… do you… need me for anything or something?”

“For what?”

“The uh—” Leon gives the room a once-over again. “The evocation. You kinda. Called me here.”

“What,” Raihan says, his brain still trying to catch up with the shitshow around him. “ _No,_ god, definitely not, mate, it’s— it’s fine. It’s nothing, really.” He feels a hand close around his wrist, and Raihan turns a bit to face his mum.

“R-Raihan,” Her eyes are wide, voice shaking, but her grip is vice-like as always. Raihan tries not to wince as she pulls him closer. “Is— are you speaking with that heathen, that _thing—_ ”

“He’s not a thing, _mum_ , and it’s a long story—” He does wince this time as long nails dig into his skin. “Just— lemme handle this, a’ight, and tell everyone else to back off.”

The candles flicker again, and Raihan feels the room grow cold.

“Raihan,” Leon says lightly. “Is she bothering you?”

His mum lets go, and Raihan goes back to facing Leon. The demon is standing up straight now, hands out of his pockets and weight fully centered. He’s staring past Raihan at the woman behind him, slit pupils contracted into thin lines and expression unreadable. She lets out a horrified, strangled sound and ducks behind Raihan.

“It’s _fine_ ,” Raihan says. “Just a family reunion, like I said, mate. No need to worry.”  
  
“Hm,” Leon turns his yellow gaze back onto the rest of the people. His silhouette on the walls seems to grow, expanding and engulfing half of the room in darkness and forcing his family to crowd closer together in the light of the other half. There’s a small sizzling noise, and Raihan can see the mist from the holy water evaporating from around the pentagram, white against the encroaching darkness in the background. So much for keeping him in check.

“Leon,” Raihan tries again, because the demon looks like he’s about to step out of the circle at any moment. “I swear, it’s okay. I’ve got it under control. It’s really not that big of a deal— I’ll explain it all when I get back, a’ight? By tonight, promise.”

The demon looks back at him, eyes slightly narrowed. “Alright,” he says finally. “By tonight.” On command, the shadows around the room shrink back into silhouette, and Leon sticks his hands back into his pockets. He waits expectantly.

Raihan blinks. “Oh. Am I supposed to—”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Oh, sorry. Right, um,” Raihan looks around for something to say. “Begone, foul demon, I guess.”

The candles go out one last time, and Leon is gone; leaving nothing but the smell of dark smoke and stunned silence of cult members in his wake.

Unsurprisingly, his parents let him leave almost immediately afterward. Raihan still doesn’t know what exactly they saw instead of Leon in the circle, but whatever it was is enough for them to keep their heads down and mouths shut when he calls a cab to take him back home. In any case, they don’t look very eager to bring him back in again for another round any time soon. Raihan tries not to take this too much for granted as he takes his leave.

As it turns out, he’s not that much out of town as he thought, since Raihan starts to recognize the landmarks around thirty minutes into the drive. He pulls up his accounts and winces a bit at the number of notifications he has, no doubt spurred on by his post from three days ago. Raihan flicks through most of them, stopping when he gets to a few text messages from Sonia and Nessa checking in, and one from Piers.

 **Piers:** _text me when u get back_

So the bastard does know, to some extent. Raihan makes a face before he sends him a gif just to let him know he’s alive, and not dead in a ditch somewhere. Piers doesn’t reply immediately though, which tells him the other man’s gone to bed or, more likely, turned off his notifs, and Raihan spends the rest of the car ride catching up with Nessa and clearing his feed.

He gets back to his flat at three sharp. Raihan closes the door behind him quietly.

“Alright,” he says, and the light blinks on. “I’m back.”  
  
Leon is sitting on the couch, cross-legged. He’s changed out of Raihan’s shirt into a simple white one and pulled his hair out of the bun, letting long purple strands hang loose over his shoulder. Despite the late hour, he looks awake and alert— though that’s to be expected.

“Welcome back,” he says, as Raihan sheds his coat and takes a seat next to him. “That didn’t take too long.”  
  
“Nah, they let me go pretty much immediately after. Got a cab straight here, like I promised.” There’s something heavy hanging in the air, and Raihan lets it sit for a minute before speaking up. “Leon, what were you doing at—”

“You called for me.” Leon looks right ahead at the blank TV. His sentences are short— curt. “After three days of nothing. I answered.”

Ah, right. He’d forgotten about that.

Raihan sighs, “It’s not what it seems like, mate. I— they’re family, Leon. It was just a reunion of sorts, technically. Not that big of a deal.”

“Seemed like it was.”

Raihan falls silent. Leon looks like a statue, completely unmoving and impassive as he continues staring at the blank monitor.

“Tell me what happened.”

So he does.

Raihan starts from the beginning, and Leon sits through the whole recounting of his shitty childhood and equally shitty parents without even so much moving or batting an eye.

“Like I said, it’s not that big of a deal,” Raihan finishes, finally, and slumps back a bit on the couch, feeling a bit more light-headed and shaky than usual. “Just… bad stuff that happened before. I’m over it now mostly, thanks to therapy. They don’t contact me very often, just when they need some extra hands for some new cult summoning they’re trying out. Don’t really bother me outside of that, so,” He gives a nonchalant shrug, “kinda just learned to live with it, I guess. It’s family.”

He’s dimly aware of a single, flickering ceiling light in the corner of his vision.

Leon’s voice is quiet, controlled. “They hurt you.”

Raihan shrugs again. “They used to, then they knew better. I left because I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore and they let me, which is a lot better than a lot of other people who were in a similar situation. I got off easy, if ‘m being honest.”

“That’s not the point,” Leon says. Raihan freezes at the bit of tremor he hears in his voice. “You still get nightmares from it— you’re still _scared_ of them _—"_

“People hurt people all the time, Leon,” Raihan says slowly. “It’s just how society works. It was ten years ago and I’ve learned how to deal with it in my own way. It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_.” The room’s lights cut out. “They hurt you— for all the wrong reasons, and they keep doing it, _they don’t know what they’ve done—_ ”

The lights flicker back on. Leon is standing up from the couch, his fists clenched and knuckles white. He’s shaking, ever so slightly.

“They knew what they were doing, Lee. It’s, they thought it was right,” Raihan can’t believe that he’s actually defending his asshole of a family’s actions for once in his life. “It’s— just calm down,” He winces as the lights buzz and go out again, “It’s okay. I’m okay now.”

“I didn’t know,” Leon chokes out, deaf to his words. “I sensed it before but I didn’t ask, I thought it was just—” He lets out a strangled sound, and buries his face into his hands as the room begins to shake.

“What—” Raihan has to grip the couch’s armrest to stop himself from being jostled off. He’s never seen Leon like this— so upset and panicked and angry— and Raihan winces as he overhears the smashing of plates in the kitchen, displaced from their cabinets onto the ground with all the shaking. “ _Leon—_ ” He breaks off at a large popping sound as the lights go out for good this time, and the room plunges into darkness.

There’s a clap of thunder in the distance, followed by the pattering sound of rain against the window.

Raihan’s always had a bit of an idea of how powerful Leon is, ever since the incident on the Tube, but this is the first time he thinks he’s seeing the exact extent of it. He’s a force of nature, out of control and over-emotional, the literal ground quaking underneath him, and Raihan’s gut clenches as he thinks about how he’s dealing with a being who’s much closer to God than he ever was to being human.

“I didn’t _think_ ,” Leon’s hyperventilating now, his breath coming into pants. Even in the dark, Raihan can see how he’s doubled over, hands pulling at his hair and body shaking. “You were gone for so long, I didn’t think it was because of them, I should’ve _known,_ I should’ve come sooner but I was so scared that it was— it was because—”

He’s crying, Raihan realizes belatedly, in a way that makes his chest ache. Leon is crying for him. “ _Leon_ ,” He tries again, groping around in the dark and trying to make his way towards the demon. “Leon, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here— I’m,”

“I thought you left me,” Leon’s voice cracks, just as the lightning comes down.

The world explodes with white, and Raihan sees everything at once.

He sees the bright golden eyes; rimmed red with so much sorrow and _clarity_ — the wet, hot tears that slip down flushed cheeks; the pained expression that contorts even more with every breath and sob that wracks the body.

He also sees, for the first time, the long appendages protruding from Leon’s back.

They’re mangled beyond repair; disfigured and bent out of shape with shards of bone jutting at out strange angles; stripped down to practically nothing save for a few fluffs that cling near the joints, and burnt to a crisp blackness that leaves ashes all over the floor and a lingering smell of smoke.

Even so, Raihan can still make out the barest framework of what he thinks used to be feathered wings.

Everything clicks back into place, this time in a slightly different arrangement.

“You don’t like humans,” Raihan says, faintly, as he thinks back to words uttered from over half a year ago; words from a simpler time, where it didn’t yet feel like his entire world revolved around the crying and broken angel before him. “You love them.

“That’s why you fell.”

There’s another sound of thunder, a strike of lightning, and Leon falls to his knees, holding his head in his hands and wings splayed out awkwardly behind him. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this,” he whispers out between his fingers. “I didn’t mean to stay for so long.”

Raihan sucks in a deep breath. Then, before he can begin processing any and all of this, he’s moving forwards, kneeling down in front of Leon and taking him into his arms. Leon goes still, but Raihan holds him close until he feels strong arms reciprocate and wrap around his own waist.

“—m sorry,” Leon whispers, holding onto Raihan like he’s his lifeline instead of vice versa. “I love you— ’m sorry— I love you so much.”

Raihan holds the demon—angel, now— in his arms, feeling his small shakes and quivers in his very core. He swallows, and pulls Leon in closer, tucking him under his chin. Leon’s broken wings lay sprawled out and limp on the ground. “I know,” he says softly. “I know.”

Leon shakes his head, still pressing his face into Raihan’s chest. “I didn’t mean to,” he stutters out, voice hoarse from crying. “I just—wanted to stay for a bit, to experience everything again, but I couldn’t just _leave_ , afterward, I didn’t want to, a-and then I hurt you and you _left_ —”

“Shhh,” Raihan says, feeling his heart twist with every sob and word that spills from Leon’s lips. He thinks back to that flash of fear he had felt from Leon when he’d thought Raihan was going to say goodbye using the Ouija board, and Raihan’s stomach turns at how stupid and blind and stubborn he’d been. “I know, mate, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it that far. It’s my fault. But I'm okay now; everything’s okay now.”

Raihan runs a gentle hand through purple locks as Leon lets out another choked sound. Then, he’s cradling his face in his hands, and tilting the angel's chin up slightly.

The kiss is smaller this time, with much less want and need behind it and more—just— _everything els_ e, and Raihan pulls back before it gets too long to press his forehead against Leon’s instead.

There’s so much going on that he can’t even begin to comprehend it— but Leon takes priority over everything right now, and as he brushes tears away from gold eyes in the dark, Raihan has never been surer of something.

“I love you,” Raihan says back, and it’s clearer than it’s ever been. “I love you too, Leon.”

He laughs sheepishly after a few seconds, “Loved you ever since the first plate of scrambled eggs you made me, I think.”

Leon blinks. Then, he’s letting out a wet laugh, and it sounds just like heaven. “That good?”

“That good,” Raihan confirms and lets Leon throw his arms around his shoulders instead. They kiss again, soft and light, and it’s perfect; everything is perfect. “That lil’ dash of creme fraiche you throw in at the end—” Raihan makes a loud kissing sound and presses the tips of his fingers against his lips, “Muah. Amazing. Where’d you learn that from?”

“Internet,” Leon says as he wiggles closer until he’s sitting in Raihan’s lap. Still, he grins down at him, dried tear tracks and all, and Raihan doesn’t think he’s looked more beautiful. “Not from experience, I’ve never possessed anyone who’s been that good of a cook.”

“Figured,” Raihan places his hands on him, feeling and loving the other’s weight against him. “I'm sorry, by the way. For everything. I didn't mean to scare you, Leon— I wasn't going to ever leave."

Leon shakes his head, "It's my fault too. I—I misunderstood. And I let them take you. It won't happen again."  
  
"Share the blame?"

"... Yeah."

It's been a long time coming, but Raihan feels like his entire world is set back right again when Leon leans in close for one more kiss. They break for air, and Raihan rubs gentle circles into Leon's hips. "So… not _that_ sort of demon after all?”  
  
Leon casts his eyes over his shoulder at sprawled out appendages behind him. “Yeah,” He bites his lip, and Raihan sees a bit of a twitch from the broken wings as Leon tries to furl them behind his back. “Sorry, I know they’re ugly, I just lost control for a moment back there.”

“It’s fine,” Raihan says, pressing their foreheads together again. “I don’t mind. You can leave them out if you want.”

Leon thinks for a moment and shakes his head. “Not right now,” he says. There’s a slight shift in the air, and he’s settling back down again, wingless and human again. “Just… wanna be here right now.” He smiles and tucks himself under Raihan’s chin. “Is this good?”

Raihan cranes his neck down so Leon can brush his lips against his. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

They sit there for a while until Raihan’s legs begin to cramp, and he opts to carry Leon back to the bedroom before he loses all sensation in the lower half of his body.

“You could’ve just teleported us, y’know,” Raihan says, plonking Leon down onto the bed and quickly crawling over him. “You’re heavier than you look, asshole.”

“I know,” Leon grins, all smug as he pulls Raihan down closer and wraps his legs around his waist. “It’s early payback for what you’re about to do to me.”

Raihan cocks an eyebrow, “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” Leon purrs back, before frowning. “Are you okay with it, though? I know I messed up big last time, so I don’t wanna pressure you into anything you’re not into—” He cuts off when Raihan’s decided he’s been cock-blocked enough times in his life already, and shuts the demon up with a kiss, slower and deeper and hungrier than the ones they’ve been doing in the living room.  
  
Raihan breaks it off once his lungs start to burn. He grins at how Leon’s gone quiet, his golden eyes large and docile as he stares up at him. It’s a very, _very_ nice sight. “Mate, the only reason I freaked out so much last time was that I thought you were only doing it for the contract’s sake or something; but I was still _very_ much into it. Don’t think anything’s gonna stop me now that I know much better.”

“Yeah, but still,” Leon makes a face. “I’m sorry for coming off that way. I’m not very good with articulating human emotions—”

“ _Leon,_ ” Raihan lets out a groan and grinds their hips together, letting the demon feel how hard he is already in his pants. “I swear to _fuck_ , bruv, I’ve been wanting to get into your pants for the past six months and it _hasn’t_ got better in the time we’ve been apart. Just—stop thinking and _fuck me_ before I’m forced to go make friends with my right hand again in the shower.”

“Oh,” Leon flushes, unable to stop his own hips from bucking up against Raihan’s. “Yeah— I— one moment.”

He vanishes from underneath him, and Raihan spends one terrifying second thinking about how he’s been blue-balled yet again before the bathroom lights flick on and he can see Leon’s silhouette through the glass frame. So instead of scaring himself silly, Raihan goes for propping himself up with a few pillows and palming himself through his shorts as he waits for Leon to finish preparing himself.

Leon comes out of the bathroom after a while, fully nude now and his dick half-hard and dripping. Raihan lets out an appreciative moan as he takes in the sight of the demon, pecs and abs and all. The feeling, he realizes with a pleasant shiver, is mutual, as he watches Leon’s slit pupils roaming hungrily over his own body and landing on where Raihan has his hand pressed against his crotch.

“Like what you see?” Raihan grins. He tries to strike the best pose he can with one hand stuffed down his pants.

Leon snickers as he crawls back onto the bed. “Very.” He settles himself on Raihan’s hips, thighs straddling him just like before. This time though, it’s so much more perfect, and Raihan can’t help the way his smile widens as he looks up at the demon on top of him.

“Wow,” he says. “I’m so in love with you, Lee.”

Leon blinks and smiles back, gaze tender. “Me too, Rai.”

Then, he’s grabbing the lube off of Raihan’s nightstand and using it to slick his fingers up. Leon shifts his weight back, ass pressing against Raihan’s cock as he slips a finger inside of himself with a moan. Raihan watches with earnest, as Leon gives himself a few experimental thrusts before sliding another in. It’s honestly the hottest thing he’s ever seen, if he didn’t already know what’s to come.

“I think— I might need a bit more,” Leon says, his breath coming into pants. He shivers visibly when he feels Raihan’s cock twitch against him, fully erect now. “You feel _big_.”

Raihan nods, holding his breath. Leon slides one more finger in slowly, letting out a breathy moan when he finally gets it in knuckle-deep like the other two. He gives a few experimental rocks with his hips, getting used to the feeling, and Raihan takes the chance to start lubing and stroking his own dick up.

“Do you—ah, usually prep yourself like this?” Raihan licks his lips as he continues watching Leon scissor himself. “I thought— cause you’re technically incorporeal or whatever, you could just go for it.”  
  
“I like it better like this,” Leon replies breathlessly. “Makes me feel more stretched out and full— I like being stretched out.”

God, Raihan could come at those words. He licks his lips, thrusting his hips up and letting his cock press into the curve of Leon’s ass. “Hurry up then,” he murmurs out, voice low and husky as he massages plump hips. “‘Cause I can’t wait to fill you up.”  
  
The sharp inhale from the demon is all Raihan needs to know that he’s pressed the right buttons, and then Leon is pulling his fingers out and lining himself up against Raihan’s cock. He works the head inside slowly, and then sits down with a soft groan, and Raihan has to stop himself from immediately thrusting into the tightness squeezing around him.

“Fuck,” he groans out. Leon is so hot inside, feverish even, and Raihan lets out a choked sound as he thinks about how much he’s wanted this. “ _Leon_.”

Leon keens, his eyes slipped close as he clenches and unclenches around Raihan’s cock, getting used to the feeling. “You’re so— thick,” he gasps out, “And _hard_.”

“‘S all for you, babe,” Raihan says, sitting up more against the headboard. He mouths at Leon’s neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there as his hands go to steady Leon on his hips. “Mm, feels so good inside of you, so hot ‘n tight, _fuck_. Just wanna see you— fuck yourself on my cock, ride it so hard—”

Leon lets out a moan at Raihan’s words, before smirking down at him. “Is that a challenge?” He says, lifting himself off with quivering thighs. He slams himself back down with a grunt, and Raihan thinks he blacks out for a second when Leon begins to bounce. “ _Ah_ , fuck, Rai, _Rai—_ ”

Raihan grits back his own cries of Leon’s name, in favor of thrusting back up in time with him and yanking a strangled cry from the demon’s throat. He lurches up to press their lips together and moans pleasure into Leon’s mouth.

“So good,” Raihan pulls Leon closer and digs his fingers into his hips, holding him down while he bucks up into him. Leon moans, low and needy in the back of his throat as he rocks his hips back to meet him. “You feel so fucking good, Lee—” He breaks off in his own grunt as he feels Leon clench down around him and licks a hot trail from his ear to his collar bone.

“Raihan,” Leon is near begging now, chest heaving as he grinds on top of him. “Raihan, please, it— not enough, harder, _please_ —”

Raihan’s mouth goes dry. He nods, lowering the demon gently down onto his back and encouraging him to hook his legs around his waist. For a moment, Raihan just takes in the sight of Leon, face flushed and golden eyes dazed with bliss, purple hair spread out across the sheets— and he feels his heart throb at how much he loves the man underneath him.

“That good looking, huh?” Leon’s voice is breathless and teasing, and Raihan snorts.

“Fucking beautiful,” he corrects, before bending down and readjusting his grip on Leon’s lower back. “Hold on tight, babe.”

Then, he’s pushing back in, slamming into Leon and wrenching a scream from his lips. Raihan sets a rough pace, mashing their mouths together as he thrusts hard, quick and deep. Leon lets out a stuttering gasp, his eyes rolling up and mouth dropping open when he presses against a particularly sensitive place, and Raihan lifts his hips up slightly to angle better as he pounds back into the spot.

Soon, he feels something hot and tight building up inside of him, and Raihan grunts as he begins to quicken his pace. Leon whines and writhes underneath him, expression slack with pleasure.

“Raihan, Raihan, _Rai_ — ‘m so close—” Leon is babbling as he holds onto Raihan, nails digging into his back. “I— _Raihan,_ I’m gonna—”

“Shhh,” Raihan mumbles against his mouth, drinking in the demon’s soft keens. “Love you so much, wanna watch you come under me, Lee, love you so _fucking_ much—”

Leon comes with a loud whine, eyes squeezed shut and come spurting over his own chest as he clenches rhythmically around Raihan. Raihan follows shortly afterward, gasping as he shoots hot and sticky inside of the demon. He gives a few more ruts for good measure, shivering at how slippery Leon’s anus feels now before flopping down on top of him.

Leon pants for breath, “That was… so good.”

Raihan grins, nuzzling into the crook of Leon’s shoulder. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Leon says. He sounds a bit dreamy and airy, still coming off the high of his orgasm. “You called me babe.”

Raihan snickers, “That’s what did you in?”

“Yeah,” Leon says again, and nudges Raihan for a kiss. They come away, feeling soft and warm and fuzzy. “Call me that again?”

“Go clean yourself out so we can sleep, _babe_.”

Raihan laughs when he’s shoved off, forearms coming up in defense as Leon tries to asphyxiate him with a pillow.

* * *

He wakes to the smell of eggs in the morning, and Raihan takes a moment to lay in bed and think about how he’s the luckiest man in the world.

Then, on the account of his stomach rumbling, he’s getting up and following the smell to the kitchen. Leon has his back to him, dressed in one of Raihan’s shirts again as he adds more oil to the pan. It’s probably one of the most gorgeous things Raihan’s ever seen, but he’s pretty sure he just thinks anything related to Leon is beautiful at this point.

“Y’know, I’m starting to think you just like wearing my shirts,” Raihan says as he comes up behind the demon, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

Leon tilts his head back to press a kiss against Raihan’s temple. “Alas, I’ve given myself away.”

“Yeah, and to think I wasted so much time and money bringing you out shopping for clothes.”

Leon thinks for a moment, “A worthy offering. I’ll make sure I give your contract some special add-ins then.”

“Like what?”

“Like being your boyfriend,” Leon says, and Raihan melts.

“Deal,” he says and kisses Leon again before moving to the table. “But just know I’m expecting a lot more exclusivity as well.”

Leon grins as he carries two plates of eggs over, sitting next to Raihan. He leans into him, and Raihan puts an arm around his shoulder automatically. “That’s already included,” he says, “No one’s coming to pick me up.”

Raihan cocks an eyebrow, “Really?”

Leon nods, “Yep! Not like anyone really cares enough about what I do to follow up, anyways. I already told Hop though— so he knows where to find me if he ever wants to drop by and say hi.” He beams up at Raihan. “I told you, I want to stay.”

“Oh,” Raihan says, and tries not to choke up. He turns to shovel scrambled eggs into his mouth instead.

Leon just hums, pretending not to notice. “Love you, Rai. ‘m not leaving any time soon.”

“Love you too,” Raihan mumbles around a bite of egg, still trying very hard not to cry. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, “... Does that make you closer to a guardian angel then?”

Leon blinks, caught off-guard, and Raihan feels a pang of alarm in case he’s over-stepped some boundaries. Then, he’s letting out a soft laugh, and pressing closer to tuck himself under Raihan’s chin. “No one’s called me that in a very long time. You could, though, if you want.”

Raihan shakes his head, “I’ll call you by whatever you want to be called. It just slipped out, sorry; I know it’s a probably sensitive topic.”

“It was,” Leon says, his eyes growing distant again for a moment. Raihan holds him. “But that was a long time ago too. I’ve forgotten most of it by now. But—”

“But it still hurts, sometimes,” Raihan says, softly, because it’s a feeling he knows well too. They’re both still scarred, in some way or another, from things in the far past that they’ve long since moved on from.

Leon smiles back at him, “Sometimes. It’s mostly just the appearance that bothers me now, I think.”

Raihan thinks back to twisted joints and burnt bone. “... Did it hurt?”

Leon shakes his head, leaning in closer. “I don’t remember. I was the only one too— Hop I picked up later, after I hit the ground. But I remember not regretting it, no matter how much it hurt. Humans are much better company, after all.”

“That’s still a pretty big price to pay, though.”

Leon shrugs and links their fingers together. “It was worth it,” he says, and Raihan feels something invisible brush soft and light against his cheekbone. “It always is.”

* * *

“I want a sosh,” Leon announces one day, when they’re both lying sprawled out over the couch together and Raihan’s pressing soft kisses against his collarbone.

Raihan pulls back, blinking. “A what?”

“A sosh. You said you’d make me one.” Leon folds his arms, looking huffy. “Back when we first went out together.”

Raihan stares at him, mind blank as he tries to connect the dots and time-marks. Then, he gets it. “You mean you want social media?”

“Sosh,” Leon affirms.

Raihan groans. “Please don’t call it that. I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch so much Youtube while I’m out.”

“I like watching Youtube,” Leon says, “especially the trick-shot and jackass videos.”

“Hence… the abbreviation that’s only used by cringe-y teenagers or fratboy influencers.” Raihan shakes his head before pulling out his phone. He scrolls through his massive army of apps, picking and choosing through what he thinks might fit Leon the best. “I think… Instagram or Twitter would probably be the best start for you since there’s a big audience and it’s easier to get noticed. You want followers, right?”

Leon nods, “Instagram is the one you’re active on the most, right?”

“Yeah, but,” Raihan frowns. “You’d have to be able to take lots of selfies, though, if you wanna take the route I’ve gone. For sponsorships, and stuff. Dunno how you'd do that when...” Leon sags, and Raihan feels his heart twist at how crestfallen his boyfriend looks.

Unable to help himself, he reaches over to ruffles the demon’s hair. “Don’t worry, though, babe, we'll figure something out about taking photos without phones. Let’s get you settled on a username and password for now. Any ideas?”

“ChampionGuy69,” Leon says, and Raihan wants to die.

He does figure something out, though, eventually.

By that, he means Piers does.

“Use a digital camera, asshat,” Piers says, the moment Raihan opens the door.

Raihan blinks, “oh.”

“Hi, Piers!” Leon calls from the living room. “Did Raihan tell you about everything?”

“More or less,” Piers says as he makes his way into the flat. “Enough for me to once again confirm that I’ve no idea how he’s survived for this long by himself.”

“He does that,” Leon agrees, all smiles and sunshine, like Raihan doesn’t catch him trying to levitate cereal into his mouth because he’s too lazy to use a spoon. They’re all a bunch of hypocrites.

“It’s not like I’ve ever _not_ used my phone for Insta,” Raihan snorts and joins them on the couch, making a very pointed and haughty choice to sit next to his boyfriend and on the furthest side away from Piers. Piers’ reply is— nothing, because he doesn’t even acknowledge Raihan’s pettiness. “‘Sides, camera work is such a hassle. Selfies are easier and just as good.”

Piers shrugs, “Not all of us look good in front-facing phone cameras; most of my stuff is from promo shoots and adverts. You’re the only one who really made selfies into your brand.” He frowns for a moment, studying Leon. Despite his usual attitude towards social media, Piers’ been in the game long enough like Raihan to still have a bit of an eye for things. “Thought they’d work for you though, Leon. You look good, even without make-up and lighting.”

“I did too,” Raihan says. “But Lee’s not... really the phone camera or film type. Doesn’t really work with his—” he gestures aimlessly, trying to make up some sort of excuse for their search for non-silver cinematography. “—look.”

“It’s because I’m actually a demon,” Leon says, being an amazingly considerate boyfriend and completely ignoring Raihan’s attempts to conceal his identity.

Raihan chokes, but Piers doesn’t even bat an eye. “Sure.”

“It’s true!” Leon looks offended, but it seems like he’s actually going through with this; Raihan doesn’t know what to do besides sit back and listen. “He summoned me last Christmas with the Ouija board he got, and I’ve been infesting his house ever since. That time we fought and didn’t talk to each other for a week was because I was misreading his intentions as part of the contract we have. I don’t show up well on film or phone cameras because they contain silver. It’s also why I don’t sleep.”

“I don’t sleep either,” Piers says. “But judging from the looks of it, you're doin' worse off than me, mate.”

Leon opens his mouth and closes it, unsure of what to say. Raihan sighs, “Just show ‘im, Leon.”

“Oh. Alright then.” Almost immediately, Leon’s pupils contract back into the normal thin lines that he shows around Raihan. A cloud passes over the sun outside the window, and, in the brief darkness that comes over the flat, there’s a faint outline of wings unfurling from Leon’s back. Raihan can’t even begin to describe how much of a fucking drama queen his boyfriend is.

“Oh shit,” Piers says, both eyebrows raised.

“Told you,” Leon says proudly. He puffs out his chest as the room brightens up again, but keeps his pupils as slits.  
  
Raihan throws an arm over Leon’s shoulder. “You’re handling this better than I thought. Why’d you tell him, by the way?”  
  
Leon hums, “He deserves to know. Plus, it’s not like it’s anything dangerous. ‘M still gonna just be hanging around your flat and stuff.”

“... I appreciate it,” Piers says slowly, his eyebrows already recovering and returning to their original position of complete indifference. “Guess that finally explains the flatmate situation then, and the whole camera silver thing.”

Raihan makes a face, “That’s not fair. How come you’re not freaking out like I did?”

Piers shrugs, “I adapt to new situations quickly. Why, what’d you do?”

“He screamed, fainted for fifteen minutes, and then tried to shank me,” Leon says and Piers dies on the sofa. “In that succession.”

Raihan tries very hard not to strangle both of them. He succeeds, mostly, but gives Leon a particularly rough jab in the side and comes away with sore fingers from how hard his abs are. This is his life now.

“So what kind of demon are you?” Piers says once he’s stopped wheezing. “I think I saw something on your back.”

“Ah, yeah,” Leon nods, settling back down next to Raihan and stroking his fingers. “I’m technically an angel, I guess. Fell from heaven, and all that stuff. It’s a long story. There are more— uh, textbook demons out there, though.”

He’s gotten a bit tense, Raihan can tell, revealing this much voluntarily, and he reaches over to rub comfortingly at the demon’s back.

“Fuck the Almighty patriarchy,” Piers says, unpromptedly.

Leon beams. “Fuck them," he agrees.

They end up taking a few photos of Leon using the flat’s balcony as the backdrop, with Raihan in charge of styling Leon’s clothes and pose and Piers handling the camera he brought over. There are some blurry ones, and the occasional one where Leon’s eyes reflect a flash that’s not there, but Piers is generally satisfied as he hands the camera over for Leon to scroll through.

“It’s not bad,” he says. “Nothing a bit of Photoshop wouldn’t fix, but that’s more Raihan’s shtick than mine.”

Raihan scowls, “Rude ass. I only use filters.”

Piers snorts, about to put Raihan into the ground with another snarky remark just as Leon finishes scrolling through his photos. The demon grins and holds out the photo he’s chosen, “Wow. I’m hot.”

“Been tellin’ you that since forever, babe,” Raihan replies, and whistles as he takes a look at the picture. Leon is relaxing against the balcony railing, showered in sunlight and dressed in tight white jeans and a black dress shirt that Raihan picked out, with the sleeves rolled up. He’s staring at the camera with large golden eyes and a slightly crooked grin on his face as he combs back a part of his bangs. It’s the perfect catfishing photo, considering Leon’s general refusal to wear anything that isn’t either Raihan’s clothes or a major offense to fashion everywhere. “Damn. You look so good.”

“I _know_ ,” Leon grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “Haven’t had a proper look at myself— well, this face, since when I was actually possessing it a few centuries ago. I’d almost forgotten why I chose him, but I think I remember part of the reason now. It’ll get me loads of followers, for sure.”

This is morally ambiguous, Raihan thinks and tries not to dwell too much on the fact that he’s been kissing the face of a dead man for the past few weeks.

“Did you make an account yet?” Piers asks.

Raihan nods, “It’s under ChampionLeon-underscore-01. I wouldn’t let him keep the sixty-nine.”  
  
“Good choice. A’ight, just followed.” Piers shows his screen to Leon, where he’s pulled up his new Insta. “Congratulations, you have two followers.”

Leon frowns, “That’s just you and Raihan though,” he complains. “My photo’s good. Why aren’t more humans flocking to worship me?”

“Steady, demon boy,” Piers says, taking the chance to clear the rest of his feed since he’s actually bothered to open up the app for once. “We all started at zero. Gotta build your way up top slowly.”

“That’s true,” Raihan says, “But, also, I have fifty million very thirsty followers who are very, very curious about my personal life that I’ve kept secret for ten straight years. Hope you don’t mind a bit of publicity now and then, Lee.”

He shows them his most recent post. It’s another picture from this afternoon; one where Raihan had snuck into frame and convinced Piers to take a photo of the both of them, pressed up close and looking into each other’s eyes. Raihan’s captioned it: _kept y’all waiting for the big reveal— introducing bf,_ followed by a plug to Leon’s new account. It’s been up for two minutes and there are already a million likes on the post and a few hundred thousand comments.

Leon looks like he’s about to burst from excitement. “You shouldn’t have.”  
  
“Consider it a welcome gift,” Raihan ruffles the demon’s hair, messing up carefully styled bangs. Leon doesn’t even notice, his eyes glued to the mass of notifications flooding into his screen. “Enjoy your human sacrifices, babe.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Piers says, but likes the post anyways.

* * *

A week later, Raihan comes back from his studio to see Leon curled up on the couch, head propped up against a pillow as he strokes Duraludon idly. The sight makes him feel all sorts of feelings at once, and Raihan drops his bag and coat in favor of joining his boyfriend, careful not to displace the lizard as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waist.

“Doing okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Leon hums, wiggling closer against Raihan’s chest. “Just thinking.”

Raihan reaches a hand over to scratch behind Duraludon’s head, grinning as the monitor squeaks in response. “‘Bout what?”  
  
“How I’m gonna overtake you in followers.”

“Fuck off,” Raihan elbows Leon, even though he doesn’t mean it. “You’re another millennium away before you can even come close to my count.”

Leon snickers, “That’s what you think. I’ve already grown two million since last week.”

He has, and Raihan is kind of scared. He elects not to say anything in return, though, out of his own dignity as an influencer and supportive boyfriend.

They sit there in silence for a moment, just resting against each other’s warmth. Raihan finds his mind wandering, as he thinks back to over six months ago, sitting in this exact same spot in front of some stupid Ouija board. It’s crazy that it’s only been that long, because he feels like he’s lived lifetimes with the demon next to him right now.

But this is good, though, Raihan thinks, as he presses a kiss against the side of Leon’s temple and feels bony wings wrap around his body in return.

This is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out fan art below!! Please support and show love to these amazing artists <3  
> @fivemegos' art of fallen angel Leon [here](https://twitter.com/fivemegos/status/1234341940188991488)  
> @HHokkori's art of the train scene from Chapter 2 [here](https://twitter.com/HHokkori/status/1271059803368898560)
> 
> im so soft i love them so much. also i.. still dont know what kind of influencer(s) raihan n piers are but it will remain a mystery forever ig
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who tuned in!! i ended up loving this au a lot and im so touched that other people liked it too, thank you!! piers has grown on me so much while writing as my literal spirit animal i really want to stop third-wheeling him. let me know what you think!! 
> 
> follow me @murphystoffelis on twitter for more updates! pls talk to me i have a lot of feelings about pokemon gays
> 
> Until next time! Thanks for reading!
> 
> The sequel is out! **Read it[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290834/chapters/55780513)**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the ties that bind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002450) by [antikytheras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antikytheras/pseuds/antikytheras)




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